How Do You Know
by Wordsplat
Summary: When they first move into Avengers Tower, it's awkward. But one magical mishap makes all the difference, and soon sarcasm runs rampant, alliances are formed, wars are fought, and copious amounts of alcohol are often involved. If you ask Coulson, everyone needs to calm the hell down, but underneath the crazy, the bonds are real. Domestic Avengers, eventually focuses on TonyxSteve
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Tony was in the lab when he got the call.

He should have been expecting it, really. As gracious as Fury had seemed to be, letting the Avengers split up and drop off the map after the New York Thing, it was only a matter of time before the spy in him demanded to regroup and reassess. Tony reached up to tap the ignore button on the holograph, but before he was able to, Fury bypassed him.

"Don't you even think about ignoring me."

"Me? Ignore you? Darling, you know you're my favorite," Tony sarcastically replied, resigning himself to the fact that this call was going to happen whether he liked it or not.

"I don't get paid enough for your shit, Stark."

"Can I help you? Kind of busy here, genius at work and all that," Tony replied airily, already back to tweaking figures on a different monitor, attempting to find a viable way to increase his flight velocity without losing strength in his repulser's. If Fury was calling him, he might be needing the answer sooner than expected.

"Where the hell are you?"

"My lab?"

"You are ten minutes late for a mandatory debriefing and you're still in your _lab_? Get your ass to SHIELD!"

"No one told me there was a meeting," Tony frowned, thinking a moment.

"Tony, I reminded you twice today alone," Pepper sighed as she descended the stairs into his lab, two mugs of coffee in her hands and a look of fond exasperation on her face.

"Only twice? Pep, you have such high expectations of me," Tony only smirked in response.

"You have ten minutes before I'm sending Romanov and Barton to retrieve you, and believe me, I'm not partial to the condition they bring you back in."

"I'll get there when I get there," Tony huffed and waved him off, dismissing the holograph and ending the call.

"Is making two of the world's deadliest assassins wait really in your best interest, Tony?" Pepper mused, handing him one of the mugs of coffee.

"Coffee!" Tony perked up, "I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

"You sure it's just the coffee?" Pepper flashed him a seductive little smile.

"Mhmm. The sex is just to hide my true motives," he tipped the mug in her direction with a grin, and she slapped him on the shoulder playfully. She let him take another long, delighted gulp of it before she started harassing him to get out the door before the Black Widow and Hawkeye came to make quick work of him.

* * *

Turns out, it was more than just a where-are-we-now assessment.

"Glad you could grace us with your presence, Stark," Fury raised a judgmental eyebrow that Tony promptly ignored, plopping down in the open seat between to Steve and Bruce. "As you can see, Thor has returned to Earth. Unfortunately, he's not here to play tourist."

"I'm afraid I do not understand, what does it mean to play 'tourist'? If this is a midgardian game, I would be more than happy to pla-"

"It's an expression," Bruce supplied, cutting the god off before he could get too confused, "It means you have a reason for being here."

"Tourists are the ones with gaudy Hawaiian shirts and taking pictures of stuff," Clint added, and Natasha rolled her eyes.

"How would he know what a Hawaiian shirt looks like if he doesn't even know what a tourist is? He doesn't even know what Hawaii is."

"I was just saying tha-"

"Now that we're all on the same page here," Fury swiftly retook control of the conversation, his impatience with diversions apparent, "What I'm trying to tell you is that Thor is here because Loki has escaped."

There was a moment of silence, each one of them instantly thrown back to the New York Thing, memories of both the battle itself and the tumultuous events leading up to it flashing through their minds. Though they had all parted on good terms, comrades in arms and forever connected by the single craziest events to rock pretty much anyone's life ever, it hadn't been easy getting there. There was a reason they had needed time apart; they had each desperately needed to process what had happened on their own. There was no question about that, but after a few weeks of distance, they had all found themselves feeling just a little...off. Out of balance. Though Loki was a force to be reckoned with and none of them wanted him to wreck havoc again per se...on some level, they all needed the team back together again, needed each other's craziness to balance out their own.

Not to mention the fact that civilian life wasn't exactly an option anymore.

"-with that danger in mind, SHIELD is outfitting you with these, which will track your movements and-"

Wait a minute; Tony sat up straight, finally pulling his thoughts away from the New York Thing. He knew Fury had been droning on as usual, but at the word _track _he tuned back into Fury's words.

"-we'll be able make it flash when there's trouble so you'll know when you're needed," Fury laid out six simple black bracelets on the table, rubbery bands with a single metallic 'A' on the front of each.

"_Fuck_ no."

Clint's the first to speak, but every one of them (except Steve, who was looking a little lost, perhaps on the concept that a bracelet could find him; he wasn't exactly caught up on the whole 'technology' thing) was nodding in sound agreement.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but the other guy's not too keen on being tracked," Bruce snorted, then added thoughtfully, "Also, the first time he comes out that tiny little bracelet is going to pop right off."

"That's a liability in my line of work," Natasha stated, sounding logical and impassive, but the insulted undercurrent was electric if you knew what to listen for.

"Yeah!" Clint agreed, "Our best asset is that we can disappear, but you clip one of those things on us and our cover could be blown at any second by anyone with a little computer knowledge. Besides, I don't want Stark knowing where I am!"

"Fuck you, Barton."

"Tony, there's a lady," Steve gave a him an 'are you crazy?' look, and Tony returned it.

"She swears more than I do!"

"Fuck you, Stark."

"See!"

Steve paused, clearly uncomfortable with that, but Tony just continued, his train of thought already switching tracks.

"And that aside, birdbrain though Barton is, he's actually right on this one. Anyone gets ahold of those tracker signals and we're sitting ducks. Besides, I live in a giant tower with my name on it, it's not like I'm not a hard man to find anyway."

"Why thank you, Stark, I was so hoping you would offer."

"...what."

"I'm sorry, didn't you just say 'I'm a rich asshole who has more rooms than god himself, I'd love to lend them out to my crazy as fuck teammates before something else tries to kill us all and Fury can't find them sneaky sons of bitches'? Cause that's what I heard."

"...you need a hearing aid," Clint snorted, "Tony doesn't do the 'sharing' thing."

"First off, fuck you twice, Barton. Second, I'd have to agree. Cause I'm pretty sure what I said was more along the lines of 'haha, I have a tower with my name on it and you don't, bitches'."

"Look, I'm gonna lay this out for you plain and simple as I can," Fury put his hands on the table and leaned forward, glaring at Tony first, "We have an arrogant, unpredictable alcoholic who tends to destroy things or make things that destroy things when he's bored, which feels like pretty much fucking always."

"Hey now, I don't always destro-"

"I am not finished," Fury shot him a 'back up motherfucker' look that even Tony couldn't ignore before continuing, "We have a scientist who likes to go all big bad green and angry and could destroy half of the city we _just_ managed to save if he so much as wakes up on the wrong side of the bed."

"It's not that out of contr-"

Only Fury could pull off a glare like that with one eye. Bruce fell silent.

"We've got a god flying back and forth as he pleases, taking our prisoners and promptly losing them as if that alone isn't enough to make every still-deeply-traumatized citizen in New York curl up in a ball and cry. We have the symbol of our fucking country riding around aimlessly on a shitty second-hand motorcycle, and if _that_ isn't a disaster waiting to happen I don't know what is."

Thor and Steve were either smart or scared enough (or perhaps polite enough, in Steve's case) that they didn't attempt to interrupt Fury's tirade, though Thor looked somewhat insulted while Steve looked rather unnecessarily ashamed of himself.

"And then,_ and then_, we've got our own god damn agents causing shit up in here, up in _my headquarters_, with Romanov all but hazing our junior agents-which is illegal, don't you snicker at me Stark-and Barton climbing through the ventilation system scaring the fuck out of everyone because we do employ some normal people here and they are not equipped to handle your shit. _I_ am barely equipped to handle your shit. But I am not your god damn babysitter, so you supposed adults are gonna have to pack your crazy up and take it to Stark Tower."

"What if I don't want five lunatics running around my tower?" Tony demanded.

"Then you shouldn't have joined the boy band, Stark," Fury snapped the file in front of him closed with an air of finality, and Tony scowled.

"...I'm not sure I understand that reference."

"Capsicle, if you pointed out every time you didn't get a reference, no one would ever finish their sentences," Tony snapped, not bothering to filter himself, and only feeling the tiniest bit of guilt at Steve's kicked-puppy frown, "Which is now my problem, cause apparently I'm housing you. You, a 90 year old man, an assassin ready and oh-so-willing to kill me, a birdbrained loudmouth, a Nordic god, and of course a fucking Hulk. My place is gonna be a real party, ain't it?" Tony quipped sarcastically.

"You really should watch your language," Steve reminded him again, and Tony just groaned.

"He should also adjust his definition of party," Natasha observed.


	2. Chapter 2

Yes, I changed the summary. I think it better reflects the story, because while the story does revolve somewhat around Tony and Steve and their eventual romance, it's also hugely about domestic Avengers, how they adjust to each other, and the crazy they get up to on a daily basis.

* * *

Tony managed to convince Fury to give him two months time to prepare, which Tony considered quite brilliant, of course, because renovations would really only take a few weeks at the rate he could pay and the amount of workers he could afford to hire at once. But in spite of his reservations about this sudden influx of permanent houseguests, he had to admit he'd enjoyed designing their space.

Stark Tower had taken a hit during the New York Thing, so renovations had been necessary regardless. He and Pepper had made it their project to remodel a lot of the top area, which was mostly party decks and Tony's, well, their suite, and some of the labs directly beneath it. The question had been how to fit in the Avengers, a question that had been answered in the form of base damage. The first five or so floors of the right side of Stark tower had needed to be reconstructed, and it had given Tony a great idea. Instead of giving up valuable lab, rec or StarkIndustries workspace, he had instead built an add-on to the right side of the building, which had needed reinforcing anyway. The smaller add-on tower, or Avengers Tower, was a pretty great space, even by Tony's high standards.

The first floor had a large grand staircase spiraling up and down, with elevators to the side, one for the upper floors and the other for the basement levels, each reinforced to carry an extreme amount of weight. The left of the stairs was a double entrance into a large ballroom with dance floors and dining areas for press events. To the right of the stairs was a hallway, with a door that led to Tony's new and improved workshop. Down the hallway was an enormous kitchen and rec room area with no separating walls for easy access. Through the kitchen there was a private dining hall, which can also be accessed at the other end through the ballroom hall, though they'll probably just use the counters or the smaller table in the kitchen.

The second floor was a rec floor, with a vast swimming pool, pool tables, tvs, couches, a couple of open bars, anything they could need. The third through eighth floors were sprawling, vast living quarters, suites of various themes. Each floor had two individual suites, one to the right and one to the left of the grand staircase. Each suite had a different theme (examples of which were classy, earthy, modern etc.), a huge bed, a tv mounted on the wall opposite, some bookshelves, and a desk area. The aside from the bedroom, the suites had three doors, one leading to a master bathroom area, another leading to a walk-in closet larger than three SHIELD issue rooms combined, and third leading to a private gym area to be personalized by it's occupants.

The penthouse was the final, ninth floor, and it of course belonged to Tony; well, Tony and Pepper. The penthouse was everything the others had in their suites but bigger, with a few differences, the main ones being his own personal rec room and open bar, an actual office instead of just a desk area, and a large balcony/landing zone for private helicopters as well as, of course, Iron Man landings. It had the dismantler for easy access in and out of the suit, but of course Tony also kept the suitcase suit under his bed for emergencies.

There were three basement floors below Avengers Tower; B1 was car/large machinery storage, a vast parking lot for Tony's many babies and projects with a ramp that led up and out onto the street. B2 was the general workout facility, which was immense and would be great for group workouts and spars. B3, the final floor, was Bruce's underground lab, a facility Tony believed to be Hulk-proof, but this of course would have to be tested.

And today was the day, it seemed.

It had been fun to renovate the house and spend the extra time with Pepper, who was normally off in the upper levels of Stark Tower running StarkIndustries and refused to see him during work because he "went out of his way to distract her", which was true enough. Now that renovations were finished and Pepper wasn't constantly bugging him about eating things and sleeping more and working less, he found himself oddly at ease.

Which wasn't really how he _should _have felt about it. Then again, he reasoned, maybe it was good for people to breathe a little in relationships. What did he know about relationships anyway? Yes, people probably need space in relationships; they must, because having Pepper around all the time had made Tony feel like he needed to come up for air. Which usually resulted in him claiming to have a tech emergency, then going down to his workshop and fiddling with different unimportant projects until he passed out on the old but quite comfy couch down there something like 36 hours later.

Which was strange, really, but so was Tony, so he didn't pay it much mind.

Because Pepper was good for him; as much as he hated being coerced into eating things and sleeping more and working less, he knew she was trying to help him-crazy, fucked up him-and there weren't many people willing to do that. She loved him so much that she was willing to be patient when he was difficult, strong-arm him when she needed to, and to stand by him when he got flighty and irresponsible, and he should love her for that. He _did _love her for that. How could he not? She was everything right in his life, and damn it, he was going to hold on to that. He was not going to let himself fuck this one up like he did everything else.

Besides maybe saving New York.

But that was a whole other can of crazy.

Speaking of crazy, here they came now.

As the Avengers exited SHIELD headquarters, they had very little things with them in spite of Tony's insistence that they would have enough space for moon if they managed to get it out of the sky. The two superspies had only one SHIELD-issue black duffel bag each, Bruce had little more than a suitcase and backpack, and Steve had three jam-packed duffels he carried on his own with ease. They would have to come back for his precious motorcycle, Steve had insisted, but it wouldn't be a problem since they could just park it in the Tower's basement. Thor seemed to need nothing at all.

"Whatever you have provided for me shall be more than enough Man of Iron, of that I am sure," he had laughed, then paused, clearly considering something with deep thought, "Unless…I was told you have every flavor of the pop-tart, so my own would not be necessary. Is this the truth, or was Clint telling jokes upon me?"

"I think the phrase you're looking for there is 'playing' jokes on you not telling, and sure, I can get all the flavors. I can buy the company, if you want," Tony shrugged, only half kidding. Thor was elated regardless.

"To buy this…company, that would assure their safe delivery to me?" Thor questioned with enthusiasm.

"Sure thing, big guy. Load em up, Happy."

It was once they got to the tower that the problems began.

Tony directed them to the new entrance, the part leading to their portion of Stark Tower, the portion aptly named Avengers Tower. He had barely opened his mouth to begin his speech before Barton was up the grand staircase in the entrance, taking the steps two at a time with child-like glee.

"I call a room at the top!"

"That's my room, birdbrain, try again."

"Dude, fuck you, I need a view!" Clint leaned dangerously, gleefully far over the balcony, obviously enjoying the height.

"Do you know how many floors this place has?" Tony snorted, "You're gonna get a view. Just not _my _view."

"What, you own the entire top floor?" Clint huffed.

"I own the entire _tower, _Barton."

"Whatever. I'm getting a room on the top floor."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, idiot; the top floor _is _my room. Well, my and Pepper's." Why did he always forget that?

"…well that doesn't seem fair."

"Guess how much I care, Barton. Take the second highest floor," Tony rolled his eyes, then spoke to the others, "Like Legolas up there is about to find out, there's been recent renovations on your behalf. You guys can have your own floor, or you can share. There're two suites to a floor and five floors. So. Have at it. I've got work to do, so JARVIS can show you around. I'll be in my workshop."

With that, Tony disappeared down the hallway.

"Who's Jarvis…?" Steve questioned, but Tony had already ducked through a door in the hallway, disappearing into what must have been his workshop.

"That would me, Captain Rogers," JARVIS responded, visibly startling all but Natasha, "I apologize on sir's behalf for his behavior, he has had a rather stressful week."

"Who the fuck is that?" Clint shouted down the stairs.

"Reveal yourself, I demand it!" Thor declared, already gripping Mjolnir tighter.

"I am sir's AI. AI stands for Artificial Intelligence, though a term you might be more familiar with would be supercomputer, or perhaps robot. I run the house along with Miss Potts, and I can assist you in a number of ways. If you address me, I can answer almost any question you might come up with, along with unlocking and locking doors, running most electronics in the building, and locating people within and often outside of the Tower."

Steve blatantly stared at the ceiling, not seeming to comprehend a thing. Thor seemed to accept this, muttering something about some Nordic name, perhaps some Asgardian thing he'd decided JARVIS was like. Natasha took it in stride, and Bruce had already met the AI when he'd worked in StarkIndustry labs in past weeks.

"So you're like a person, except you live in the ceiling?" Clint demanded.

"I can hold conversations, if that's what you mean, though I do not 'live in the ceiling'. I am present everywhere in any of sir's buildings, cars, or other devices. I provide assistance in his Iron Man suit, for example."

"You're…everywhere?" Steve asked, a little intimidated to say the least.

"You can address me from anywhere in the Tower or any of Sir's vehicles, yes."

"What about…" Steve blushed slightly, "The shower?"

"If privacy is your concern, Captain Rogers, allow me to assure you that though I sound like a human being, I am not. I am a computer presence that can give verbal and electronic assistance, no more; there is no reason to feel embarrassed by anything you say or do in the Tower. Video surveillance is disabled in your bathrooms as well, so in a figurative sense I cannot 'see' you there if that is your concern."

"I see," Steve nodded, still unsure.

"Could you give us a tour?" Bruce questioned.

"Of course, Dr. Banner. To your left we have the grand ballroom for press conferences, fundraising galas and other such events. To your right we have the upper floor elevator and the basement level elevator…"

Clint jumped down from the staircase railing and followed the group as they toured their new home. When the tour was finished, they split off and chose their suites.

Clint, of course, took a striped-themed one on the 8th floor, as close as he could get to the roof. Natasha took the one next to his, a simplistic-themed suite also on the 8th floor. Steve, still unused to skyscraper and high floors and even elevators took a homey-styled suite on the 3rd floor, and Bruce took the woodsy, natural-themed room above his. Thor took the other suite on Bruce's floor, a modern-styled one most reminiscent of Asgard.

Steve was getting settled in his room when JARVIS spoke, visibly startling him once more.

"Captain Rogers, it's come to my attention that you might be made more comfortable if your surroundings were more like what you were accustomed to in the 1940's. Are there any circa 1940's items you would like me to acquire on your behalf?"

"Are…are you offering to buy me things?" Steve was astonished, "I thought you were a computer?"

"I am a supercomputer, yes. But I also have sir's numerous credit cards on file and his specific instructions to buy you whatever would make you feel more comfortable in your new surroundings. Anything you instruct me to purchase I can have delivered to the Tower within 24 hours."

"Sir…is Tony?"

"Yes, master Tony Stark."

"He told you…to buy me things?"

"Yes."

Steve wasn't sure what to make of that. He and Stark hadn't exactly gotten off on the right foot. Or even a decent foot. They'd gotten off on the foot they'd kicked each other with. Steve wasn't proud of how he'd acted; he liked to believe that the scepter had influenced his wildly out of proportion reaction, but he knew it wasn't entirely true. There was some influence, yes, but it had only amped up what had already been there.

When he had met Tony, he had been hoping to meet Howard. He wasn't proud of himself for that, but he knew it. He had been hoping to see his old friend reflected in his son's eyes, see the loyalty, the honesty, the dedication to his country that Howard had carried with him. Howard had his faults; perhaps he had worked a little too hard at times, unsure how to relax, and perhaps he had occasionally put other people and their feelings to the side to accomplish what he wanted to. But he did it for his country, for the war efforts, and because he knew he was doing something good and right.

Tony had at first seemed to be the antithesis to his father. Though he was startlingly similar in looks, especially his eyes, he was abrasive, sarcastic, and generally flippant about everything. When they had Loki in custody, instead of focusing on the matter at hand, Tony had instead questioned him about Pilates, not hesitating to mention his time in the ice, which happened to still be a rather sore subject. In those first few days, Tony hadn't seemed to take anything or anyone seriously; it was all one big joke to him, and Steve had mistakenly decided that meant he didn't care.

Though he had taken real offense to the Capsicle nickname, he had told himself he didn't like Tony Stark because of who he was. The truth was, he hadn't liked Tony because of who he wasn't; Howard. And that wasn't fair to anyone involved, and Steve was rather ashamed of himself. Not to mention it had become clear to him, both through the final events of the New York Thing (Tony had called it that once in a meeting, and it seemed to have stuck) and the handful of meetings they'd had since that Tony _was _the kind of guy to let the other guy crawl over him when it came down to it; he was just resourceful and creative enough that it rarely came to that. It wasn't that Tony didn't care about other people. He just didn't seem to know how to express it unless there was some form of imminent death threat involved.

I mean, you don't fly a nuke into outer space for your comrades (not to mention all of New York) unless you happen to care about them. Tony, of all people, with all his technology and flying suit, could have flown away. Instead, he took the nuke and basically…well, as much as Steve had been loathe to admit it at first, he had done exactly what Steve had.

They'd had every intention of giving their lives for something more important than the both of them, and through pure miracle, they'd both survived.

It was something to think about really. When the going got tough, they were more similar than perhaps anyone would have thought. Steve had been feeling guilty about his initial assessment and treatment of Tony, and perhaps this "buy Steve whatever he wants" thing was Tony's way of saying he felt bad too.

Steve couldn't help but smile at that; perhaps they could be a team after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve kept meaning to go down to Tony's workshop, but he kept finding an excuse. Something to unpack here, something to fiddle with there, anything to keep him from talking to Tony. Lunch came and went, and though Steve didn't know it, not a single Avenger entered the kitchen.

Well, Clint entered through the ventilation system, snagging snacks for him and Natasha before retreating back up to their floor. Bruce had some food in his lab from the weeks he'd worked their previously, and hadn't exactly been keen on socializing. Thor was enjoying himself chatting away to JARVIS, ordering numerous punching bags and training items online with Tony's credit card and JARVIS' assistance. Tony was, well, Tony, and hadn't even registered the fact that normal people ate food during the daytime.

They all had their excuses, but really, they didn't want to see each other. It was _awkward, _this sudden living together. They didn't know each other at all, not really. Sure, they'd saved the world, but before that, most of them hadn't even met.

So Steve stalled his way through lunch and eventually dinner, which, though they did all eat together, happened to be the single most awkward meal of any of their lives. Worse than shawarma even, because that silence had been born of pure exhaustion. This silence was awkward and weird and uncomfortable, interrupted with small bits of small talk but mostly filled with nervous tension until they quickly finished their food and dispersed.

After dinner, Steve started to return to his room, then saw Tony descend into his workshop. Perfect timing; or at least, it should be.

It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Tony, really. In fact, it was sort of the opposite; now that he really wanted to talk to Tony, to actually _talk _to the guy instead of argue and fight and bicker, he was nervous. He'd had friends, of course, before. Not a _lot, _per se, not as many as the famous Tony Stark probably had. But if this team was going to work, he and Tony would need to do more than be civil in the hallway. They should, and easily could, become friends, if Steve could bring himself just go _talk _to the guy. Tony had already made the first step in his own way, though Steve wasn't sure if he was supposed to know about Tony's instructions to the Jarvis (was Jarvis an actual name, or the name of the machine? Yet another question to ask Tony, once he apologized). Either way, it was a sign that maybe they could right things between them after all.

Even without the team dynamic to consider…Steve had to admit, he wanted to find a friend in Tony. The 1940s were long past, but there was more to it than the fact that the people and the places he knew were gone. The environment and culture he'd grown up in was gone. Women acted and dressed in ways that would have shocked even headstrong Peggy, people used words and slang he didn't recognize while his old-fashioned terms that made them laugh, and he could no longer even recognize the neighborhood he grew up in. He had quickly learned to assume at all times he knew nothing about anything here, and it didn't help that he had to figure it out all on his own.

Finally, nearly an hour after dinner, Steve made his way to Tony's lab.

"Tony?"

"Pepper?" Tony sounded startled.

"No, it's uh, it's Steve," Steve reached the final step and came into view.

"Oh. Sorry, I forgot I gave you all access, usually only Pepper can get down here. Forgot she was in D.C. for the…thing," he waved a hand vaguely, unable to remember what exactly the 'thing' was. Some business meeting, probably; as long as he didn't have to go, he couldn't be bothered to care much.

"Captain Rogers, good to see you."

The voice had a mechanical tint to it, but it was definitely Director Fury's. Steve turned to face one of Tony's futuristic blue screen thingy's Steve could never remember the name of as Director Fury's face popped up.

"I was just informing Stark here of Agent Coulson's status."

"Status...you mean, he's alive?" Steve's eyes went wide.

"He might be, yes," Fury's tone is vaguely amused, but Tony's certainly isn't.

"What do you mean he 'might be', what the fuck does _might be _mean? Does he have a pulse or not?" Tony demanded, then, almost to himself, "God damn spies never tell me fucking anything. And you people wonder why I hack your systems."

"You seem almost upset there, Stark," Fury raised an eyebrow, "What happened to 'he's just another agent'?"

"Please," Tony snorted, "Tell me there is another agent on this planet or any other that can handle our, as you so fondly put it, 'fucked up super-crazy'. Agent is one of us."

"It's good to know you care, Tony."

Steve froze; that was Coulson's voice.

"Agent!" Tony seemed just as shocked, then, with his usual sarcasm, "You seem to leaning towards the alive side of 'might be' to me. How're you holding up?"

"Couple of stitches, feel good as new," Coulson's face flickered onto another monitor, and he stretched his shoulder, "Just released from medical. I'm on my way to your location as we speak."

"Already? Not that I'm not anxious to see you or anything, but my taser burns _just _healed and all…"

"You know what they say, no rest for the wicked; and since Loki's not on vacation, neither are we."

"Good to have you back, Agent."

"Good to be back, Stark."

"Not to cut the reunion short," Fury's voice cut in, "But you might want to give the others an advanced warning. A dead man ringing the doorbell might be just the thing that drives one of you fuckers over the edge of sanity you're all so barely clinging to."

"I'll take that into consideration. See you around, Agent."

There was a single beep as both screens disappeared and Tony began typing a series of commands. The vents above them swung open to reveal Natasha, who landed gracefully in spite of the surprise drop. Tony seemed surprised as she was.

"Huh. To be fair, that was guesswork, and even then I thought for sure it'd be Legolas."

Natasha stood straight in spite of being caught outright spying, "Are you going to inform the others, or shall I?"

"I was thinking this would do nicely," Tony announced, pressing down a button on one of his keyboards, "Attention, this is an Avengers announcement; turns out Agent Coulson got stabbed in the back and lived to tell the tale. He'll be here in like ten minutes, so…Avengers assemble! By the front door!"

Tony released the button, and turned to face Steve and Natasha, who glared at him.

"What? Is this going to be another emotional-sensitivity lecture, cause I already got one from Pepper over the phone this morning, and I'd _really _like to stick to one a day."

Natasha rolled her eyes, and Steve just sighed.

* * *

Phil spent the entire car ride over fiddling with his watch.

Part of it was that his stitches itched, and fiddling was a way to distract himself from scratching them. Mostly, however, it was what Tony had said to Fury, playing over in his mind; _Agent is one of us_.

He'd always stayed professional, or at least he'd tried to. He was an agent of SHIELD, the handler of SHIELD's single most obscenely talented and obnoxiously troublesome duo for more than five years now, and he possessed a pretty diverse skill set of his own. He'd played a big role in nearly all of the highest priority missions SHIELD had seen in years; the tracking and recruitment of Dr. Banner, the recovery and defrosting of Captain Rogers, the management of wild card Tony Stark, and the incorporation of Norse god Thor into the team.

And yet, somehow, he still felt more like a babysitter.

So when Tony had said that, that Phil was one of them…he couldn't help but consider it. He wasn't a superhero, by any means. But the list of people that could do what he had done was a short one; even just the list of people that could manage Tony was limited to him and Pepper Potts. Somewhere along the way, had he gotten so caught up in the mission that he had, essentially, become one of them?

Well, it was true it would be hard to take any 'normal' missions very seriously after this whole affair; they were just on another level, and anything else would be a joke. Not to mention he couldn't imagine anyone else handling the Avengers. Fury himself couldn't even stand to have a few of them running around his place of business, and here Phil was going to be living with them.

Of course, the violence, insanity, and violent insanity that the Avengers were known for was sure to only increase when the six superheroes and their deadly superspy handler lived under the same roof. It was true that he had often complained about his job before, and even more often threatened to beat, taser, or kill any number of them when they didn't listen, which was more often than not. In spite of that…he found himself rather glad to be considered one of them.

Because, yes, he was basically a superhero babysitter, but Phil Coulson absolutely loved his job.

When he arrived at Avengers Tower at last, Phil was only one step out of the SHIELD-issue vehicle before Steve promptly engulfed him in a very large, very tight hug. Phil blinked widely, his thoughts ranging from 'ohmigod Captain America is hugging me' to 'damn I should have almost died sooner' to 'wow I really can't breathe right now' until he finally just hugged Steve back, if only to get him to let go.

"Give me your cards," was the first thing out of Steve's mouth, and it was in possibly the most demanding voice the unfailingly polite man has ever used. It was practically his Captain America voice. Though Phil was momentarily starstruck, Steve backtracks, obviously assuming it was surprise on Phil's face and not awe, "I mean, once we're inside, I'll, uh, I'll sign them. Right away this time, I promise."

"Thank you," Coulson nodded, attempting to maintain a level of professionalism while containing an enormous amount of excitement.

Helpful as ever, Steve hauled his bags inside while Thor pulled him into another bone-crushing hug with all his usual enthusiasm. They entered the building then, and Phil had to admit it was nice; classier than Tony's usual party-it-up style, and he heavily suspected Pepper's involvement. Bruce shook his hand heartily, saying it was good to have someone else sane back on the team. Tony waved at him with a little half-grin, and Phil waved back. Clint was suspiciously missing, but before he could ask, he caught Natasha's eye.

She was watching him warily in typical Natasha fashion, clearly still on guard. Always the suspicious one, it was easy to see she was trying to decide if it was him or if perhaps SHIELD was pulling tricks on them again. He smiled, somehow relieved by her suspicion, if only because it meant some things never changed.

"Do you remember Widston?"

"I preferred Beaumont, personally."

Relief is instantly visible on her face, if only for the briefest of moments, and only because he knows her so well. It was a little code they had, using fake locations (Widston, Beaumont, Benneford being a few of many) and talked about it like it had been a real mission. They would have a little exchange, and if both parties used one of the made-up locations in their question and answer, it was a simple little way to give initial proof their identity. Anyone looking over their files would see no missions in those locations, and if one of them showed confusion over the location, or didn't reply with another one of their specified fake locations, they knew their suspicion was warranted. It wasn't _real _proof, but it was good enough for now; he could see her relax, see her recognizing him.

"God damn, this is Budapest all over again," Tony complained, "No one's ever gonna tell me what the hell happened, are they?"

"Tell you what, if you can find the files on Beaumont, Tony, I give you official permission to read them," Phil told Tony, earning a small, almost imperceptible smirk from Natasha for sending the genius on a wild goose chase for nonexistent files.

"I don't need your permission," Tony huffed, clearly offended that his hacking skills had been challenged.

"Where's Agent Barton?" Phil asked, ignoring Tony's usual dramatics.

"I thought he was somewhere in the vents, but he would have heard the announcement, so we're actually not sure," Tony mused.

"Last I saw, he said he said he was headed for 'Clintown', whatever that means," Bruce shrugged.

"He's in the vents, then," Natasha groaned, "Or on the roof, which is infinitely worse."

"How so?" Steve questioned.

"He'll yell obscenities, drop eggs on passerby, imitate birds, that sort of thing. You'll get more people calling you to complain than Fury did when we nearly leveled New York," Natasha shook her head.

"First of all, we didn't nearly level New York, Loki did," Tony corrected.

"My brother was merely-" Thor attempted to defend his brother's honor, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Thor, buddy, we've been over this," Tony clapped a hand on the god's back, "He killed 80 people in 2 days, unleashed a robotic demon spawn army on New York that killed plenty more, and had a go at Agent over there. He is one hundred percent responsible for the New York Thing."

"But he was-" Thor insisted.

"No but's, Thor," Tony chastised, then his attention reverted to Natasha, "Wait, what do you mean he imitates birds?"

"He likes his codename," Natasha gave a long-suffering sigh, "Way too much."

"He can throw his voice around," Phil supplied, "Handy trick, but he generally uses it to yell 'caw caw' off a rooftop and make it sound like he's next to people on the ground because he thinks it's funny."

"Caw caw motherfucker!"

As Phil had warned, the voice sounded like it was right behind them. Instead, Tony just looked skyward.

"Barton, get the fuck out of my vents!"

"Y'mean Clintown?"

"I mean my vents, you asshole!"

"No!"

"I will get my suit and repulser your sorry ass out of there if I have to!"

"Agent Barton," Phil addressed the spy in a calm but wryly humorous tone, "Evacuate the vents before I retrieve you myself."

There was a loud bang, followed by an aggressive _OW, FUCK. _Then;

"Coulson?" his voice was hesitant, surprised, and hopeful all rolled into one.

"Of course it's me. Now get out of the vents," Coulson gave the smallest quirk of a smile when a loud racket echoed through the vents as Clint scrambled back to the nearest exit point.

Yes, some things never changed.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time Pepper finished her meeting in D.C. and returned to the Avengers Tower, two weeks after they had all moved in, it was clear things had gone from bad to worse. Or, more actually, from what-do-we-talk-about awkward to holy-hell-I'm-going-to-punch-someone-in-the-face-if-they-speak awkward.

Coulson continuously tried to get them to communicate and do things together, but they generally ended up standing around making small talk or ignoring him completely. Natasha and Steve were constantly in their personal gyms, Clint disappeared for hours on end in the vents scoping out his 'kingdom', Bruce and Tony holed up in their respected labs, and Thor took to exploring Midgard via the subway, so he disappeared for long hours and occasionally days.

Steve tried to befriend him, joining in on these adventures, but quickly found that though they shared a confusion of today's world there wasn't much else they had in common. That, and two lost people getting lost together wasn't exactly a recipe for success. After their third time of having to call Tony to have Happy pick them up, Steve gave up on befriending Thor, who seemed much happier wandering off on his own anyway.

Pepper now sat in Tony's workshop, attempting to convince him to make an effort.

It wasn't going so well.

"This is ridiculous."

"What? You're the one who told me I should play nice with them," Tony reminded her, "I get tricked into letting them live with me but agree anyway, I build them their own separate suites and gyms, then I give them access to my credit cards and tell them to go wild. I should get a knighthood for all the nice shit I've done lately. Frankly, Pep, I'm way over quota and you know it."

"There's no quota on niceness, Tony," Pepper sighed, then, "And buying people things isn't niceness anyway. Have you actually spent any time with them? Any of them?"

Tony hesitated.

"That's what I thought."

"Who would I even talk to? Hawktard's an asshole, Agent Catsuit doesn't really talk, I'm pretty sure Captain Righteous still wants to hit me, Bruce is ignoring me-"

"Bruce is ignoring you?" Pepper raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yes," Tony mumbled.

"What did you do, Tony?"

"I didn't do anything!"

And really, he hadn't. If anything, he'd been nicer to Bruce than he was to most people; having someone else around who understood his genius jargon was great. Before the New York Thing, Tony had shared his blueberries, chatted about science, even run a few of his ideas by the doctor and gotten good feedback. Since the New York Thing, Bruce had been reclusive. He stayed holed up in his lab, and anytime Tony went to visit, he'd gotten a tense 'I'm busy, Tony, another time'. Tony explained this to Pepper, who thought it over.

"He may just need time to adjust, Tony."

They caught up some more about the going-ons around the tower lately, and Pepper began to wonder if it wasn't just Tony being dramatic. Being the fixer she was, she spent the rest of her day observing the other Avengers to figure out the problem, and noticed it wasn't just Tony and Bruce being their usual reclusive selves. Everyone seemed to be avoiding each other, tiptoeing around every little thing. Which made sense, in a way, because none of them were "talk it out" types. Fight it out, maybe, and Pepper could easily see the tension taking a swing that way.

Steve was easy enough to figure out; the whole thrown-into-the-future thing would throw anyone off. Bruce was shutting everyone out, and Pepper's best guess was that it had something to do with his whole Other Guy situation, something about the way he phrased it when he asked her to leave the lab, 'it's probably best if I work alone', as opposed to asking or telling her to leave, tipped her off. Thor spent most of his time on the subways, though for the life of her Pepper couldn't get him to say why, he just kept telling her it was something he had to do. Clint was usually in the rafters avoiding/spying on the others and Natasha seemed to disappear completely, perhaps on missions, but when they were around they spent most of their time together. They bickered constantly, but blocked out the others because they still seem to be inherently distrustful of, well, everyone. Coulson was included in their little circle of trust, but he was preoccupied with the same thing Pepper was now on board with: Operation Friendship.

"They just won't _talk _to each other," Pepper grouched, flopping down on the rec room couch across from Phil, "They may be superheroes, but they're complete idiots."

"You're dating one of them," Phil pointed out.

"Yes, but…Tony is…Tony's different," Pepper bit her lip, then explained, "He's an idiot, but I know him. I know how his mind works. Well, usually. Not all that tech work, but I know how he thinks. He thinks Steve still hates him, and whenever Steve tries to apologize Tony thinks he's just being Mr Polite 40s Guy. Tony's convinced Bruce doesn't want to be his friend because he's too much of a mess, but Bruce just thinks everyone's afraid of him after seeing the Other Guy, not to mention he's not used to the close proximity. Of course, Tony wouldn't know fear if it bit him in the ass. But because they won't talk about it…"

She trailed off, making a vague hand gesture, but Phil understood, and sighed in agreement.

"I've tried to get them to talk," Phil shrugged, "I've organized household dinners, held PR events, even forced them play ice breakers at one point, anything to get them to _talk_. Finally, I just sat everyone down at the table at one point with a list of things to talk about. Bruce fiddled with his phone and gave one-word answers, Natasha never even showed up, Thor was still so preoccupied thinking about the Loki situation he barely said a word, and Clint and Tony bickered for half an hour over one talking point until Steve tried to intervene and Clint almost clocked him while aiming for Tony, so I had to call it a night and just be happy there wasn't any blood."

"…how much do you get paid?" Pepper raised an eyebrow.

"Not enough for this."

"Welcome to my life."

"Miss Potts, Agent Coulson, we…may have a problem," JARVIS sounded hesitant. Pepper couldn't help but tense up; it was never good when JARVIS hesitated.

"What kind of problem, exactly?" she answered. Before JARVIS could respond, Tony's voice came over the P.A. system.

"Anyone curious about the purple shit outside their windows might want to come down to my workshop, we've got trouble."

"JARVIS?" Coulson asked.

"An unusual signature has been detected around the house, and sir has specified it as magic. He's isolated Loki as the cause, and he believes we may be able to track Loki's location using the magic around the Tower as a beacon of sorts. He's running some tests at present, you might wish to find out yourself."

Pepper and Coulson were already halfway down the stairs to Tony's workshop.

"JARVIS says you can find Loki?" Coulson demanded.

"Hey, she's allowed to know things now?" Tony didn't turn away from his holoscreens in spite of his playful tone.

"If SHIELD didn't want her to anything she wouldn't, yet she's known all along hasn't she? More importantly, what's going on here?"

"I'd like an answer to that myself, Stark," Fury's face popped up on a holoscreen to Tony's left, and he answered them both.

"Hello to you too, Director, always lovely to see your smiling face."

Silence.

"You people have no sense of humor. Fine, yes, Loki's back, and he's cast some sort of spell around the tower. I'm not much of a magic guy so I couldn't tell you what it does, but I _think _I can use the specific signature to find the source, and therefore Loki if I just move this here, then change the rotation on this, and then-"

Tony rattled off more science and figures and technobabble, and the others fell silent and let him do what he needed to. The other Avengers eventually joined them in Tony's workshop, and Clint swung out of the vents just in time to hear Tony's conclusion.

"Aaand...gotcha. Okay, Loki's on the move, but he's not far. Only a couple blocks from here, actually," he smirked as he turned to face the others, "Let's roll."

They caught up with the signature Tony had triangulated within a half hour, but it turned out to be nothing more than a hot dog vendor. The vendor was not only extremely confused when the fully-outfitted Avengers cornered him, but also wet himself when Thor shook him and demanded that he return home to Asgard, so they were rather sure of his innocence. Though Loki's involvement was quite real-the purple haze that remained around their Tower left no question-he had managed to evade them for now.

Disappointment, both at the lack of capture and, if they were being honest, the lack of a good fight, put a damper on everyone's day. They skipped shawarma, Tony declaring it to be purely celebration food, and ended up calling it a night.

"_Tony," _Pepper repeated his name for the third time.

"Huh?" Tony didn't look up; they were in his workshop, and he was bent over one of Iron Man's arm pieces, taking it apart with intense focus.

"Tony, would you please just come to bed already?"

Usually, she let him tinker down here as much as he wanted, even though the fact that he slept down here more often than with her was...well, weird, to be honest. She certainly didn't like it, but she knew Tony didn't think about it like that, so she didn't bother to bring it up. He didn't think it was weird that he slept in his workshop instead of in bed with his girlfriend; he didn't think about it at all, really. He was just...Tony. He just got involved in inventing and put everything else to the back of his mind. So she tried not to think about it; it didn't work, usually, but she tried.

This was different. This time, they'd been separated for two weeks. They'd talked over the phone, of course. That had been great; they'd talked for hours for probably the first time since they'd gotten together, and it had felt normal and wonderful and she had missed him. As great as that had been, they hadn't seen each other, much less slept together, in two weeks.

So why was he not all over right now?

It was almost funny, really. When she'd first found herself falling for Tony, she'd been cautious to consider that area. After all, who didn't know about the three great loves of Tony Stark's life: technology, alcohol and sex. How many women had she escorted out in the mornings? She clicked her tongue in annoyance; she tried not to think about that either.

"Tony, you aren't even listening to me, are you?"

"Mhmm."

Pepper's eyes narrowed, then reached over and snagged Tony by the ear.

"Would you at least _pretend _you're listening to me?"

"Ow! I'm listening, damn it!"

"Tony," she lowered her voice a register, "Come to bed. Now."

"Pepper, I'm kind of…oh. _Oh."_

* * *

Around 7am the next day, sunlight began to stream in through the curtains of Avenger Tower. Steve sighed into his soft pillow, appreciating the warmth of the sun against his face. Then, his eyes blinked open in confusion. How had he slept in like this? He usually woke long before the sun came up. He had a moment's panic, his nerves tensing as everything spun around him; no. Not again.

The watch that would tell him the time and date was gone from his bedside, and, upon further examination, this wasn't even his room. He couldn't remember anything that would identify why he wasn't in his room, and he was suddenly drenched in a cold panic.

Please, God, not again.

He bolted up, taking his head in his hands, trying to breathe. He could feel it again. He could feel it all over again, like he was drowning. He remembered the deep, bone-chilling cold as he lost all consciousness in the ocean, the confusion and utter panic not unlike this moment when he'd woken up in a strange new future. He remembered arguments and scrambling together a team and the moment when they finally overcame Loki, how they had later moved in together and it had been awkward and weird but it had been _something. _Steve had finally pieced together something out of the darkness and now it had been ripped from him _again _and-

A hand touched his back lightly, and Steve flipped out, turning to face them. He had confusion and panic and terror written clearly across his face; then, in a split second, it drained away to simple confusion.

"Pepper?"

Then, she moved forward to comfort him, and the sheet around her chest fell.

"Ohmigosh," Steve did _not _squeak. Because that was highly unmanly. He did, however, flail enough to fall out of the bed, "S-sorry, I don't-I _didn't_, how could I, I mean, T-tony, you…I am _so sorry_!"Steve floundered around on the floor, unable to find the right words, then glanced down at himself, discovering he was rather…well, cold, "_Oh my God."_

Steve dove for one of the sheets, grabbed it and attempted to yank it off the bed. Which should have been warning sign number one; the sheet wouldn't come. Usually, when he pulled at things with more force than necessary, they broke or ripped. The sheet didn't even move. He yanked, but Pepper's weight kept it down, which was _beyond _strange. But before he could process that, Pepper starting talking and then everything just went to crazy.

"Tony, what are you _doing?"_

"_Tony?"_

"Were you having a nightmare? Hey, just relax, it's okay," she moved closer to him, with those, those _breasts, _his teammate's girlfriend's _breasts, _and Steve freaked, dodging her arms and running around to the end of the bed, covering himself as best he could.

"Pepper look I'm really sorry about whatever happened but I can't remember anything and I don't know why cause I can't get drunk but that's really not important because I really really did _not _mean to sleep with you because that's wrong and you're Tony's girl and I respect that I really do and I don't even like you like that I _swear _and I am just so so sorry for any trouble please don't tell Tony I don't want to die I think I kind of like it here maybe-"

"You're _Steve?!" _Pepper's voice reached a screechy level of shock.

"Of _course_ I'm Steve!"Steve screeched right back.

"Were you Steve _last night_?" Pepper's shrieked, her eyes wide as she moved across the bed to see him better.

"I'm always Steve!" Steve wailed, hopelessly confused and now looking skyward to avoid anything that even remotely resembled skin or Pepper or _breasts_, "Would you _please _put some clothes on?"

"Oh," Pepper's eyes went wide again, and she hastily wrapped a sheet around herself, though Steve was still profoundly uncomfortable.

"Can I have a pillow or something please?"

"Here," Pepper tossed him one, then, almost to herself, "Though I suppose it's not exactly something I haven't seen before."

"_What?" _Steve spluttered at her forwardness.

"Tony and I sleep together, Steve," Pepper explained as if he were a child.

"_I know that, thank you," _Steve's face went scarlet.

"Steve, I don't mean I've seen other guys, I mean I've seen…this particular set of equipment, so to speak._"_

Why was Pepper trying to tell him she'd seen him naked? More importantly, why did the universe hate him?

"I'm pretty sure you haven't, ma'am," Steve mumbled, still blushing heavily.

"Steve…" Pepper spoke slowly, "I don't think you get it. That's not your…equipment."

She gestured to his lower region, and Steve went pale. After a long, fearful moment-were his parts missing? Was he a girl now?-he removed the pillow and glanced down.

It was most definitely male equipment.

But it wasn't…well, as Pepper put it, it wasn't _his_ male equipment.

"Am…am I…?" Steve continued to stare, until it occurred to him what exactly he was staring at.

_Oh my God, I'm staring at Tony Stark's penis._

Steve eyes were instantly on the ceiling.

"You can look at my face, you don't have to look at the cei-"

"_Yes I do."_

"Um. Okay," Pepper paused, and a moment passed where neither of them were entirely sure what the _heck _they were supposed to do.

"Miss Potts, Captain Rogers, the others are beginning to wake, and I believe I've found sir," JARVIS spoke up, answering their unspoken prayers.

"Where is he?" Steve asked.

"_Who _is he?" Pepper murmured.

"I believe he is in Captain Rogers body."

"You believe?"

"Unless your morning routine usually involves a creative string of swears and a half hour of examining yourself in the mirror, yes, I believe so. Though it might perhaps be Agent Barton, I suspect his language is nearly as colorful as sir's."

"Thank you, JARVIS," Pepper answered, then gestured to one of the door's, "Why don't you, um, borrow some of Tony's clothes?"

"Okay," Steve mumbled, waiting until she turned away to get up and scramble for the closet, still holding the pillow very close.

He borrowed an old t-shirt and some jeans from Tony's closet, carefully tugging the shirt over his newly acquired arc reactor. He paused a moment, examining the blue device, then made himself stop. Even though it was in his body now, it still felt deeply personal.

"Damn it, who the hell is in my body?"

Hearing his own voice was possibly the single weirdest thing Steve had ever experienced. Not to mention the swearing made it even more surreal. It seemed Tony as Steve had finally come upstairs and was now talking to Pepper.

"Steve is, apparently. Give the poor guy a minute to put some clothes on before you attack him, St-uh, Tony," Steve heard Pepper say, tripping up on her words.

"JARVIS?" Steve heard Tony as him demand, "Who all's in who?"

"No else has spoken to each other yet, so it's a bit difficult to determine with certainty if the others have in fact been affected, though I can say with perfect clarity that Agent Romanov has been."

"Why's that?"

"Whoever is in her body is rather interested in their new acquirements."

It took a moment for Steve to realize JARVIS was politely saying that whoever was in Natasha was groping themselves. Jeez. Why was everyone so worked up about breasts today? Steve guessed he should consider himself lucky to still be in a male body; if he had had to deal with _that _on top of having a new body…

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of his own laughter. It was…weird. Of course, this whole dang thing was weird to begin with.

"So it's not Banner then. Ooh, I wonder who's in him. God, I hope it's not Natasha, or we're all gonna die in like an hour."

"Tony," Pepper redirected his attention, exasperated, "What on earth is going _on?"_

"According to my calculations, it was that purple junk. It's not outside anymore, and when I washed my hands, the water was a little purple so I ran some tests with JARVIS' help, and it turns out we, or at least I, absorbed the stuff during the night. I'm guessing tests on the others will reveal the same, though I'm still unsure what the full extent of the effects are-"

Steve emerged from the closet to comment, and ran into himself.

Literally.

If he thought hearing someone else speak in his voice was weird, seeing someone move, walk, gesture with _his _body…it was something else entirely. Like looking in a mirror and having it wave back; completely unbelievable.

"This is the weirdest shit I have ever seen in my life."

"No need to swear," Steve replied automatically, and Pepper couldn't help but giggle nervously.

"That's incredibly weird," she observed.

"Try living it," Tony as Steve snorted. Steve as Tony ran a hand through his now longer, unruly hair.

"Okay…it's definitely time to call a meeting."


	5. Chapter 5

"Okay, so I officially take back everything I ever said about Loki's spells. Cause this? This is fucking _awesome,_" Tony as Steve grinned, lifting one of the couches in the rec room up, people and all.

They had all made their way down to the first floor rec room, and were sitting very far apart from one another on the couch. Pepper and Coulson were the only ones sitting normally. Thor, who usually made himself quite comfortable relaxing on Tony's couch, was sitting upright with his legs crossed and a keen focus in his eyes. Clint, who usually swooped in at the last minute from somewhere in the vents was instead curled up in a corner of the couch, watching Tony with a caution Clint usually threw to the wind. Natasha, though not particularly lady-like to begin with, seemed much more relaxed, sprawled out with her legs open and her arms over the back of the couch. Bruce was twitching, having walked in at the last minute, and Tony-well, Tony's body, anyway-was twiddling his thumbs anxiously, something Tony had never done in his life.

"Put us down, Stark," Thor ordered. If Tony had to hazard a guess from the tone, he was thinking Natasha was currently occupying the god.

"And mind your language, would you?" Steve as Tony reprimanded.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony as Steve shrugged, releasing the couch and dropping them back.

"Fuck," Bruce swore, "Didn't have to drop us, asshole."

"Okay, so Katniss is in Bruce," Tony as Steve deduced.

"You wanna go Stark? Call me Catpiss again!" Yes, Clint was definitely in Bruce; Barton was particularly sensitive about being compared to the Hunger Games archer.

"Don't get too excited there, Barton," Tony as Steve chided.

His voice was light, but the fact that he'd shifted from Katniss to Barton was a clear signal he was backing off. Who knew what would happen if he got mad; everyone fell silent, seeming to have the same thought.

"Holy shit, am I going to turn into the jolly giant now?"

"God help us all," Steve as Tony murmured, and everyone took a brief moment to observe how utterly strange it was to see _Tony _look reverent.

"Thor, if you touch my chest again I will end you," Thor snapped at Natasha, who was busy examining herself.

"But they are mine now, are they not?" Thor as Natasha reasoned, "Should I not learn the ways of mine own body?"

"_Stop," _Natasha as Thor hissed, making Thor's voice sound deadly serious, and Thor as Natasha quickly dropping his hands.

"I will not touch them. Though, truly, they are magnificent."

Natasha as Thor was clearly resisting the urge to strangle her own throat. Suddenly, there was a loud clap above, and a streak of lightning came crashing through one of the windows of the Tower, streaking towards Thor as Natasha. Thor as Natasha dodged the bolt at the last minute, rolling away with sharp, perfected reflexes that clearly weren't naturally Thor's.

"Aw fuck, Natasha," Tony as Steve swore, "I promised the construction workers a month off."

"How dare you command my element?!" Thor as Natasha demanded, obviously highly insulted.

Natasha as Thor blinked upwards, the wheels turning in her mind. She held out one of Thor's hands experimentally, willing herself to visualize Mjolnir, flying across the room, landing in her-

Oh.

The hammer slammed into Thor's palm.

"This is going to be interesting," Natasha as Thor smirked, testing the weight of the hammer, finding it solidly manageable.

"I demand that you return Mjolnir to me this _instant." _Thor as Natasha was more serious than they had seen him before.

"What happened to it being 'mine own' now?" Natasha as Thor shot back, clearly telling him he would have to fight her for it.

"Okay, everyone needs to just calm down," Bruce as Clint rose from the couch to pull one of them away.

"Agreed," Steve as Tony went for the other.

Neither Thor nor Natasha broke their glare contest, but they let themselves be seated.

"Okay. So. To re-hash, Thor and Natasha switched, so Thor, stop touching Natasha's gorgeous tits-" this earned Tony as Steve a very weirdly dangerous glare, coming from Thor's face, "And Natasha, don't touch Thor's stuff. Firstly, because, c'mon, the guy has hammer issues. Second, that shit is crazy destructive. It's been like half an hour and you've already blasted a hole in the building."

Natasha as Thor shrugged, and put the hammer on the ground; it was a fair point.

"Even more problematic, Bruce and Clint switched. So. No pissing him off until I get him to the Hulk-safe zone and run some tests-"

"Tony, my lab is great and all, but it's not a Hulk-safe zone. There _is_ no Hulk-safe zone," Bruce as Clint argued, "There will be no tests; we just can't let Clint get angry, no matter what. Speaking of, are you feeling alright now, Clint?"

"Why, am I looking _green, _Doc?" Clint as Bruce joked. No one laughed.

"This is serious, Clint," Steve as Tony reprimanded, "You could cause a lot of destruction. When Bruce is in control, the Hulk is an ally, with you…who knows?"

Bruce as Clint looked surprised at the almost-compliment, but said nothing.

"Yeah, whatever, stay calm or go green, I got it," Bruce as Clint crossed his arms with a particularly un-Bruce-like scowl.

"Alright. Finally, I'm Tony, obviously, not Spangles," Tony as Steve finished, waving to himself, "Which, isn't so bad. I mean, look at these guns. Damn. Well, there is the fact that press are going to have a field day when Captain Helpful walks a little old lady across the street and people think Tony Stark has a heart or something, but, y'know, we have worse problems I suppose."

"Tony," Pepper rolled her eyes in reprimand.

"I'm more concerned about how you're going to make _me _look," Steve as Tony retorted, more than a little affronted by Tony's jabs, "Would it kill you to behave yourself? You're Captain America now."

"Man, if someone had told me when I was ten I would get to be Captain America someday, I would have shit myself," Tony as Steve grinned giddily.

"_Tony."_

"Alright, alright! Jeez, Captain Funsucker, learn how to have a little fun. Thor's got boobs, Legolas might turn into the jolly green giant at some point, you get to be Tony Stark for a few days, and I get to live out a childhood dream; this is gonna be great!"

"This was a dream of yours?"

"Admittedly, there were usually less people involved."

"I can't imagine," Steve as Tony snorted.

"I call _not _telling Director Fury about this," Coulson put a finger on his nose, suddenly realizing what an extremely _un-fun _conversation that was going to be.

His nightly updates were bad enough;

"Are they talking yet?"

"No."

"What if there's another invasion?"

"If it makes you feel any better, they're likely to kill each other before anything else does."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

"Me neither, sir."

"Not it!" echoed throughout the room, until Steve as Tony and Thor as Natasha were left looking very confused.

"Stark was the last one who knows how to play to touch his nose," Natasha as Thor pointed out, and Tony as Steve shot her a deathly glare.

"Huh. Interesting. I didn't know Stevey's Bambi eyes _could _glare," Clint as Bruce observed.

"Bambi?" Steve as Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Movie," Tony as Steve waved a hand, "You wouldn't like it."

"How do you know I wouldn't like it?"

"It's about a baby deer with huge Disney eyes whose mom gets shot. Want to watch?"

"That sounds horrible."

"I told you," Tony as Steve shrugged.

"Stop stalling and call Director Fury already," Pepper piped up, clearly not amused with Tony's attempts at distraction.

"Ah, she knows me too well," Tony as Steve sighed, before walking over to the TV and making a few hand signals, pulling up a holoscreen and projecting it onto the TV before ordering to JARVIS, "Call Sassypants."

"Call _who?" _Coulson, though managing to keep most of his usual poker face, couldn't help but raise a single eyebrow.

"Why hello there Director Sassypants, how are you on this fine morning?" Tony as Steve grinned delightedly as Director Fury's face flashed onto the screen.

"Uh…" the confusion was quite evident, and Tony prided himself on rendering the Director of SHIELD speechless.

"Tony!" Steve as Tony protested, his face flushing red, "Stop that!"

"I don't know what in the hell you all are up to, but unless you have something of national importance to tell me I would like to be kept out of your daily dose of crazy."

"Why, Nicholas, I am deeply insulted," Tony as Steve declared, and Fury visibly faltered.

"…you're not Captain Rogers at all, are you? You're Stark. Which would make you," Fury gestured to Tony's body with a growing sense of understanding, "Captain Rogers?"

Silence.

"Motherfucker…are you serious? Are you kidding me right now? So let me get this straight, if them alien fuckers come down to Earth again-as they well might, seeing as Loki's skinny ass is still gallivanting around like a free man-I'm just gonna have to tell them we can't even keep our heroes in their own damn bodies, so just _excuse them _a moment while Captain America knocks back a couple drinks and Iron Man crashes into buildings if he can even get off the ground?"

"Nicholas T. Fury, you are one sassy motherfucker. I can't believe you just used the word 'gallivanting' in the same sentence as 'alien fuckers'," Tony as Steve shook his head with a grin, "I am proud to know you right now."

"Stop calling Nicholas. And my middle name doesn't have a T, you idiot."

"Ooh, wait, I get it!" Steve as Tony eagerly raised a hand.

"Uh," Tony as Steve raised an eyebrow, unaware he had referenced anything, "You do?"

"Isn't T. Fury a...what do you call them, a rapster?" Steve as Tony blinked innocently, a look that was profoundly weird on jaded, sarcastic Tony Stark's face.

"Uhh...well, you mean rapper, and I'm 85% sure you're thinking of T-Pain here, but good try though. 10 points to Capsicle."

"This isn't middle school, and you're not the teacher. There's no participation points here, Tony," Coulson rubbed his forehead to soothe his on-coming headache.

"Not middle school, Coulson, Hogwarts," Tony corrected, then added, "And yes, there totally is. JARVIS, you're officially keeping track of this now."

Aaand there's that headache.

"Really?" Steve as Tony blinked up at the ceiling, still associating the ceiling with the voice.

"It would seem so," JARVIS droned.

"Who's winning?" Clint as Bruce demanded.

"As the only one with any points at all, that would be Captain Rogers."

"No fair! Don't I get points for my awesome hideout?"

"What hideout?" Tony as Steve's eyes narrowed.

"What? Did I say something?" Clint as Bruce instantly backtracked.

"If you're nesting in my fucking vents, I swear to god I will end you."

"It's not a _nest_…it's just...a hideaway."

"_Fuck."_

"As fucking weird as it is to see Captain Rogers swear-" Fury interrupted.

"It's not me!" Steve as Tony protested pointlessly.

"What is more disturbing is the fact that either Dr. Banner has taken residence in the vents with Agent Barton, or_ all _you fuckers are switched around. Worse yet, I'm not entirely sure either would surprise me too much at this point."

"I don't live in the vents with Clint," Bruce as Clint offered, though it didn't make much sense coming from Clint's mouth.

"_That's _why it's been so damn hot in here!" Tony as Steve declared, pointing an accusatory finger at Clint as Bruce, "Your weird nest thing is clogging up my vents!"

"Nu-uh!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Girls, girls, break it up," Coulson stepped between them with a bored sigh.

"Hey," Natasha as Thor narrowed her eyes, and the air of offended femininity coming from Thor's extremely masculine body was too much.

Coulson let out the smallest little snort of laughter, which, coming from him, might as well have been a hour of belly-laughing. Fury, Clint, and Natasha each looked surprised, well aware of that fact.

"It's not even 9am, and you've all talked more to each in the past half hour than you have in the past two weeks," Coulson chuckled in explanation, "Though this is still by far the weirdest day of my life-and considering the company I keep, that's saying something."

"No fucking kidding."

"Stop cursing with my mouth!" Steve as Tony complained.

"I'm signing off," Fury growled, "Agent Coulson, let me know when this shit gets sorted out."

"Yes sir."

Right as Fury signed off, there was a loud crash behind them and everyone turned to look. Clint as Bruce crash landed on the kitchen table, skidding off and knocking over the chairs. He looked up guiltily from his spot on the kitchen floor and for a moment, no one said anything. Then, Tony as Steve saw the open vent, and burst out laughing as he connected the dots.

"Oh my God, you missed the fucking vent! He actually fucking…he tried to jump into the vent and _missed_, oh my God," Tony as Steve continued to crack up, unaware of the interesting shade Clint as Bruce's face was turning.

It didn't go unnoticed.

"Tony," Natasha as Thor warned, her voice calm, quiet, and serious as death.

"No, seriously, Barton, thank you, you've truly made this year worthwhile, I-"

"Tony,"Steve as Tony grabbed Tony as Steve's arm (_weeeird), "Tony."_

"Wha-_oh._"

Clint as Bruce's breathing was becoming short and shallow; he swallowed hard, tried to shake it off, but it didn't help much. His face was rapidly becoming a quite interesting shade of purple, and not in a comedic, hyperbole kind of way. In a, _holy fuck his face is bright purple_, way.

"Clint," Steve as Tony's voice was calm, steady, "Clint, we're your friends. Tony was teasing, it was just a joke-"

"That's not it," Coulson shook his head rapidly, and Natasha as Thor nodded in agreement with Coulson.

"Clint, listen to me," Natasha as Thor moved to where Clint as Bruce knelt on the kitchen tile, putting a hand on the shuddering shoulder, "You will be okay. This will wear off, or we'll sort it somehow, _I promise."_

"_Not good enough."_

Coulson knew Clint as Bruce wasn't talking about Natasha's words, but about himself. He was freaking out because he wasn't as physically capable. Clint had always been naturally flexible and sneaky, but he had also trained for years to reach the level of mastery he was at. He wasn't used to Dr. Banner's clumsier, normal body. Clint was used to precision and coordination and being able to swing up into vents and observe people without them even noticing his presence. Dr. Banner's body wasn't trained to do any of that, and the lack of familiarity was freaking the spy in Clint out.

And, apparently, the Hulk.

Clint's muscles rippled, and Coulson knew it was time to intervene. He crossed the room and joined Natasha, laying a hand on Clint's other shoulder.

"Agent Clint Barton, I order you to stand down. Do you copy? Stand down."

Though to the others in the room it was an odd exchange, the effect was immediate. Seemed Barton still had some of his own reflexes after all, something Tony noted as well, hypothesizing that it had something to do with the difference between a mentally correlated reflex, such as the words "stand down" to relaxing oneself, and a physically correlated reflex, such as the duck and roll Thor had performed earlier in Natasha's body that he most certainly wouldn't have done otherwise. While Clint had probably simply mentally connected the idea of standing down and relaxing, Natasha had most likely practiced her reflexes to the point of an attack generating a physical response, regardless of the mental process going on upstairs.

Well, food for a genius' thought.

"You alright there?" Steve as Tony asked.

"Yeah. 'm good," Clint as Bruce nodded, suddenly not so fun and games about the whole situation anymore. Now he just seemed tired. Bruce as Clint addressed him, an ashamed look on his face.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you serious?" Clint as Bruce seemed shocked, then, almost a little angry, "Christ, Bruce, we owe _you _an apology. It's…it's not…I can't even imagine…it was like being under Loki's spell again."

Everyone fell silent; Clint _did not_, under any circumstances, speak about being under Loki's spell. _Ever. _Even Natasha and Coulson, who had heard the most about it-their combined total being a whopping three sentences-now watched him warily.

"Does he always just…" _Infiltrate your lungs and squeeze them until you can't breathe, and your whole body is just collapsing in on itself like a dying star as he sucks you away? Is it supposed to feel like you're disappearing into a black hole, unsure if you're ever coming back? Does he always make you feel like you've had your soul rattled, your very core shook up and broken apart and put back together incorrectly?_

"Yes," Bruce as Clint murmured softly, hearing and answering Clint's unasked questions.

"We owe you an apology," Clint as Bruce repeated honestly, crossing the room and hugging Bruce as Clint. Then, "Wow. I mean, I know I can be conceited, but even I've never hugged myself before. That was a first."

Bruce as Clint laughed at that, a real laugh, and the Avengers dissolved into more talk and banter, discussing future plans and sorting themselves out. Watching it all with a faint smile on her face, Pepper couldn't help but wonder if maybe this was exactly the sort of thing the team had needed all along.


	6. Chapter 6

Three days since the transformation, Steve as Tony crouched down, halfway up the grand staircase and breathing hard. He and Tony had managed to escape for now, but he didn't know how much longer they'd last; they had very little collective experience with this kind of warfare. There weren't many places to hide, and they were rather out in the open on the staircase. Certain they would find them soon, so Steve as Tony readied his weapon, holding the gun steady in his hands. He heard a soft, almost inaudible noise down the hallway, and he tensed. Then, at the last possible moment, he leapt out from his hiding spot. An array of bullets whizzed past him as he used one hand to vault over the railing and the other to shoot three bullets straight at his enemy's forehead.

One connected, exploding on contact; Clint as Bruce dropped to the floor.

"Dr. Ba-ah, excuse me, Agent Barton, has been eliminated," JARVIS announced gravely, and Steve grinned slyly.

"_Damn _it, Stark, that's not fair!" Clint as Bruce demanded, still lying on the floor, entirely naked except for his purple underwear, "We said first floor only!"

"Still not Tony," Steve as Tony grinned, cocking back his plastic gun to ready it again. He too was devoid of all but boxers, his a pair of Tony's black silk ones. Though usually Tony's expensive stuff made him feel uncomfortable, he had to admit, these were some dang soft boxers.

"Nice shooting, Cap," Tony as Steve grinned, poking his head out of the stairwell.

"Maybe I forgot because you're cheating like him," Clint as Bruce grouched in reply, shooting a glare at Tony as Steve.

"I'm not cheating," Steve as Tony chuckled, retrieving the other bullets off the ground, "You're just upset because Dr. Banner's body doesn't have your natural aim."

"Damn straight he doesn't. Fuck, I liked this game a lot better without Stark's stupid upgrades."

"Language," Steve as Tony chastised, then smiled, "And I kind of like it."

While adjusting to their new (though hopefully temporary) bodies, they'd decided the best way to get acclimated was to fight; partially because they might need to, depending on Loki's plans, and mostly because fighting was kind of the group's go-to solution for most problems. Tony had provided them with nerf guns, but, being Tony, he'd been unable to resist adding a little twist.

He replaced the nerf bullets with something akin to paintballs that released, as far as Steve could understand, some sort of electrode thing that paralyzed the area they hit, and if it hit the heart or brain, the entire body would be paralyzed. Which was quite useful, mainly because Clint and Natasha were quickly discovered to be notorious cheaters. However, for the paintballs to explode and release the chemical, they had to make skin contact.

Which explained why the world's most powerful superheroes were running around the tower nearly butt naked.

Thor as Natasha had volunteered to go entirely naked-for the sake of fairness and all-and though the others had rapidly agreed, Natasha as Thor had threatened to level the Tower with thunder if Thor so much as _thought _abouttaking off the sports bra and boy shorts she provided him with. The team decided that perhaps it was best for everyone if Thor just kept the bra on.

They also decided that if they never said "Thor, keep your bra on" again in their lives, they would be okay with that.

"Tony, come on."

"Keep my boxers on, Spangles, I'm coming," Tony as Steve huffed, hopping over the railing as well, but he pushed down too hard with his new super-strength; the whole section came crashing down.

"Okay, now we _really _need to move," Steve as Tony hurried Tony as Steve along, knowing that the sound would most certainly draw attention to their location.

The game had been going on almost three hours now; Thor as Natasha had gone down first because the Asgardian had never used or dodged bullets before (also, arguably, because he had been busy definitely-not-staring at his new breasts), but it had been an hour before anyone else had. Natasha as Thor had been the second to fall, because though her mind was sharp as ever, most of her fighting abilities were physical reflexes.

With Clint as Bruce down, and Steve and Tony having formed a team (Steve had insisted something about teamwork and cooperation and blah blah blah and Tony had agreed because, well, let's face it, he was about as handy with a gun as he was in the kitchen), Bruce as Clint was the only one left. Easy as pie.

Another hour later, Bruce as Clint took them both out from his hiding spot in an open vent, making two crazy accurate shots that had even the real Clint impressed.

Coulson approved; though the others were fumbling with their new abilities and how to use them, it seemed Bruce had embraced Clint's natural gifts and combined them with his own-intelligence, clearly-to create quite the winning strategy.

Though to be fair, the others were coming along fairly well too; perhaps better than Coulson could have hoped. The body-swap had brought something out in all of them, cleared the air of personal space and careful respect, giving way to sarcastic banter and playful sparring. Of course, there was also more than the occasional fight, but that was normal for them, much more normal than all that silent tenseness had been. Fighting, though none of them might admit it, was something they just needed to get out of their systems sometimes.

Clint and Bruce were the first to break the awkwardness barrier that had separated them all in the beginning. They began talking, mostly about the Other Guy and relaxation techniques and monitoring stress levels, but eventually about themselves as well.

"How was it similar?" Bruce as Clint asked, tapping a pen against the table.

They were in Bruce's lab, and Bruce as Clint was examining a sample of blood taken from Bruce's body after the switch. Bruce was interested in the fact that Clint's skin had begun to turn purple instead of green, and was curious to see if there had been any sort of molecular change.

"How was what similar?" Clint as Bruce replied, fiddling with a beaker full of red foamy stuff.

"Loki's manipulation. You compared it to the Other Guy taking over on the first day we were all switched around."

There was a brief pause as Clint considered Bruce's words, and whether or not he wanted to reply. He looked at Bruce in his body, and Bruce gave no signs of pressuring Clint to speak. He really was interested in the bloodwork; the question was just a question, and Clint was free to ignore it if he didn't want to talk about it, which was perhaps why he did.

"It has it's similarities and it's differences," Clint as Bruce put the beaker down lightly, thinking, "With the Other Guy, it felt like I was being tossed aside. Like my conscious was just being completely disregarded. With Loki, it was more…more like he took my consciousness and played with it. I remember everything I did, every move I made. At the time, it…it felt like my own will. Like I was doing what I wanted to do. I almost prefer the Other Guy, if I'm being honest."

"Hm," Bruce as Clint nodded, not ignoring his words, simply digesting them a moment before replying, "Neither case is ideal, of course. But I see what you mean. Anyone can disregard your mind-though of course not with as much force as He can-but there's something a little more intrinsically terrifying about the idea of someone manipulating your mind; more invasive, more personal, I suppose."

Clint as Bruce fell silent, unsure how he felt about how accurate Bruce as Clint's words were.

"Yeah. Personal," Clint as Bruce said at last, gritting his teeth, still nursing a grudge about not getting a shot in when they'd taken Loki down.

"You'll get your chance," Bruce shot Clint a small smile, reading his mind.

Thor and Natasha, once he managed to get over the fact that he had breasts and she managed to come to terms with the fact that though he was Asgardian he was still male and it was rather hard for him to ignore his new equipment, were next to begin actually talking to each other.

It turned out Thor had more to say than any of them might have expected.

"No," Natasha as Thor said flatly.

"But I must-!" Thor as Natasha insisted.

"Thor, you are not taking _my _body on the subway, and that's final."

"You have never traversed beneath our streets? You really must, it's quite-"

"_I _have. And that's why you're not going. If someone gropes you, you would join in or something!"

"…" Thor as Natasha fell silent a moment, considering something.

"Fine," Natasha as Thor noticed his unusual silence, so she threw him a bargain, "Tell me why you're so desperate to ride the subway all the time, and if it's a good enough reason, I'll go with you."

"Though I thank you for your offer, this is a task I must accomplish alone."

The words were strange for the god; though not as teamwork-slap-happy as their Captain or Coulson, Thor was never one to turn down companionship. He was generally jovial, inquisitive, and just a big ball of friendly, curious energy; his naiveté to this world could come off as general ignorance, and Natasha had to remind herself that the god was not in fact stupid by any measure. It was perhaps his odd behavior that made Natasha act a little differently than she would have if, for example, Tony or Bruce had wanted to work alone.

"You're a member of this team too," Natasha as Thor said, not pressing the matter or pushing him to be involved, just stating something true, "Within these walls, you're not an outsider or a visitor. You may be from Asgard, but we all have our pasts and our differences and there's a million reasons why each and every one of us doesn't belong out there. That's why we're here; we belong here, together. And that includes you."

Natasha as Thor turned on her heel then and began to walk away, her piece said. Thor as Natasha caught up with her, catching her (well, his) arm.

"I search for my brother. I wish to convince him to return home before he can be captured. I know not what you do with your prisoners, but if it is anything like on Asgard, it is not something I would wish upon him."

Thor as Natasha shuffles, obviously second-guessing whether or not he should have shared that information.

"You're trying to find him on foot?"

"If I were to get close enough to him, I would know; he may not to be my blood, but that doesn't make us any less brothers."

The conviction with which Thor spoke surprised Natasha; it wasn't that she had doubted his loyalty to his brother, so much as she rarely heard him so speak so seriously. He mistook her pause for hesitation.

"My brother is not evil, Agent Romanov. He is misguided, yes, but he is not evil. I do not believe his intentions in this," Thor gestured to his and her new forms, "To be anything but mischief. He has always delighted in games and causing confusion, and I believe he is simply returning to old habits. If SHIELD finds Loki first, I do not believe they would be so willing to see his actions in such a light. They might not return him to me, to Asgard, and…you must understand, I refuse to lose my brother again. There are no lengths to which I would not go to ensure this."

Natasha swallowed hard, her mind flashing images of her, Clint and Coulson in the thick of an op. The many times she followed orders to move forward into an unknown location, trusting Coulson implicitly that it was the right way to go, trusting Clint implicitly to cover her back as she did. The times she had done the same for them. She knew without question that if one of them were led astray, she would bring them back with no regard for her own safety or standing in SHIELD.

Clint had made the decision to save her life instead of end it once, going against all SHIELD protocol to do so. Coulson had supported both Clint's decision and Natasha herself, taking her on as one of his own. After a brief period of time in the beginning, neither had questioned her loyalty to them since. She knew without question her loyalty was to them above SHIELD; they were her brothers in arms, her Loki, so to speak.

So while she was an active SHIELD agent and should theoretically report Thor for explicitly stating he intended to go against SHIELD orders, instead, she found herself clasping a hand on his (well, on her own, weird as that was) shoulder.

"Let's go then."

Meanwhile, Tony and Steve hadn't quite boarded the bonding train yet.

While they managed to team up during the daily Nerf War to increase their chances of success (something the others had quickly done as well, so now it was a three teams of two game), outside of that they still had their bumps.

"Steve, seriously, stop hovering," Tony as Steve snapped, sitting up from his workbench, "It's hard enough trying to work with these hands of yours."

"You've stooped to insulting my _hands _now?" Steve as Tony frowned, and backed away slightly. He'd simply been trying to what Tony was working on, but now he was offended, "What's wrong with my hands?"

"They're big and clumsy and I can never get a damn grip on anything," Tony as Steve grouched as he pressed down too hard on one of his projects, squishing it, "Fuck! See?"

"Well, you have tiny hands," Steve as Tony huffed in retort, examining them in his lap with disdain, "They're all…tiny."

Steve had never been all that great at insulting people.

"Well, as I'm sure you're aware now, at least it doesn't correlate," Tony as Steve smirked.

"What?" Steve as Tony raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused.

"You know what they say about guys with tiny hands? Well, it sure ain't true for me, and according to Pepper, you seemed quite fascinated by that not-so-little fact."

Steve as Tony's face remained blank.

Then, Tony as Steve wagged his eyebrows suggestively (an odd sight on the usually well-mannered Steve Rogers face), and it clicked.

"_Tony!"_

"And I thought lobsters were red, hoo boy," Tony as Steve grinned, "You should have your blood pressure taken, you look like a vein's gonna burst or something."

"I was n-not _fascinated!" _Steve as Tony sputtered.

"I dunno, Pepper says differently…guess you must of been pretty friendly in the barracks, huh Captain?"

"_Christ_, Tony!" Steve as Tony spat it like a swear word, his face redder than ever, though now with anger as well as embarrassment, "What is _wrong _with you?"

"Why don't you tell me, Captain Righteous, you're oh so good at it," Tony as Steve snapped back, and Steve couldn't help but think that this had escalated rather quickly.

Then again, with them, it always seemed to. An insult here, a slight there, then someone takes offense and fires off a retort, then the other was snapping back and they were at each other's throats again. Steve was sick of it. He was getting along well with the other's now; he'd had fun showing Natasha how to get used to having a larger, more muscular body (something he'd had to get used to after the serum), chatted with Bruce about what it was like with all his new reflexes, even reminisced with Thor a bit about missing their homes.

Not Tony.

Sick of their constant bickering, instead of snapping back with another retort about what was wrong with Tony, instead he demanded, "Why won't you just accept my apology?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that I've apologized to you, something like five times now, about that stupid fight on the Helicarrier and you won't accept it, you keep just brushing me off, like you _want _to keep fighting."

"Contrary to popular belief, Cap, I can be a bit difficult sometimes."

"Would you stop trying to be funny for once and just answer the question?"

"You don't need to be polite, and I don't need your false niceties; I'm a big boy, Captain. What you said…well, it wasn't wrong. I'm that self-aware, at least."

"Tony, are you serious?"

Tony as Steve just raised an eyebrow, unsure of what Steve was trying to say.

"Tony, I was _so _wrong. You can't begin to imagine how awful I feel for saying those things. We'd only just met and you sort of rubbed me the wrong way, and I know I did the same to you, but I had no right to say those things. I didn't know you. I _still _don't really know you, but I know enough now to know I was wrong. You _would_ lay down on the wire for the other guy, you'd do it a heartbeat, but you'd only do it if that brain of yours couldn't find another way, and I couldn't _see _that yet, not then. I haven't been apologizing out of politeness or obligation, I'm apologizing because I'm _sorry_. We're a part of a team here, and it's a good one. I'd like us to be teammates; friends."

There was a long moment, where Tony considered Steve's words, then,

"I accept your apology. But you're Captain America, literally a living legend. I'm not exactly great friend material here-"

"Why do people keep _saying _that? Steve as Tony blurted, suddenly upset.

"Saying what?"

"A 'living legend'," Steve as Tony repeated, "You know…just because I'm supposed to be a legend doesn't mean I'm not human or something. Doesn't mean I don't get lonely too."

The confession hung in the air, the silence suddenly overwhelming, and it all but slapped Tony in the face.

What an ass he'd been. Of all the arrogant, narcissistic things he's done, this had to be damn near the top of the list. Here he'd been sitting around on his ass, telling himself the same old self-depreciating bullshit about how Steve wouldn't want to be friends with a guy like him just because the idea of having a friendship he doesn't have to pay for makes him a little scared, and Steve has been completely alone.

Everyone the guy ever knew was dead, up until recently the Avengers had been so dysfunctional they were practically a reality TV show, not to mention the fact the entire world around Steve had changed entirely in, for him, the literal blink of an eye.

God, Tony was an idiot.

He wanted to tell Steve he was sorry. He had been an ass and it was all his fault and he should have just been _normal _for once and accepted Steve's first apology, and offered his own. He wanted to explain that he'd just been a little put off by the whole stars and stripes routine. He wanted to explain he'd mostly been put off by the whole human-interaction thing.

He wanted to say that Steve wouldn't have to be lonely any more.

"There's a Starbucks around the block, and I need some caffeine. C'mon Spangles, I'll buy you something."

It's not the most eloquent thing he could have said, and certainly not the kindest. But there's an expensive as hell coffee maker that makes Tony's perfect cup of coffee in under 10 seconds ten feet from him and Steve doesn't drink coffee at all, so he felt like his offer sort of spoke for his intentions in his own Tony sort of way.

"Alright," Steve as Tony's words were soft, but his smile was blinding.

Tony rarely got coffee anywhere but through his own personal, perfected machine, so it turned out Tony didn't _quite _know where he was going. Though at first they were only making awkward small talk, sometime around the time they got lost, small talk turned into an actual conversation, which turned into confortable banter. By the time Tony realized they were lost, he was enjoying the companionship enough that he convinced himself that mapquest was overrated anyway, and ignored the wifi-enabled StarkPhone in his pocket.

They were turning a corner when they ran into a surprised teenager, who spilled his rather hot coffee on Tony as Steve's shirt. Though he was in Steve's body and therefore the shirt wasn't a particularly expensive one, Tony was still rather pissed.

"Hey, watch it punk!"

"Oh, don't shout at him like that. You're representing America now, remember?" Steve as Tony reminded him with a stern, chastising look.

The teen watched them a moment, pure confusion written clearly on his face. Captain America had just snapped at him, called him a punk even. And Tony Stark, snappy, sarcastic, teen-boy-idol Tony Stark, had reminded Captain America to be courteous. That was pretty damn high up on the crazy scale.

"What the fuck?"

"Hey now, watch your language there son."

Tony Stark, self-proclaimed "Tony Motherfucking Stark", had just told him to watch his language. And, perhaps even weirder, called him "son".

"This is the single weirdest dream I have ever had."

"Oh my god, you're ruining my reputation," Tony as Steve grabbed Steve as Tony's wrist and dragged him away.

"Wait, we could ask him where the Starbucks is-" Steve as Tony tried to turn around, but Tony as Steve just kept power-walking.

"I think we'd better let this one go, Cap."


	7. Chapter 7

After finally finding a Starbucks and getting Tony his much needed caffeine, there was a brief pause where Steve as Tony headed back towards the Tower, and Tony discovered he didn't really want to end the outing quite yet.

"Hey Cap, you haven't been out much, have you?"

"Not really. Little busy lately, fighting aliens and all," Steve as Tony joked.

"That was months ago. You haven't gone exploring yet?"

"Didn't want to get lost. I'm still trying to get the hang of these, uh, cell phones," Steve as Tony held up his, a brand new, top of the line, not-even-released-yet StarkPhone, and Tony as Steve sighed.

"Do you even know what geeks would do to even _look _at that…ah, still so innocent. Alright Uncle Sam, lucky for you my schedule's got a little stretching room. We can teach you how to use your phone another day, it's time we show you the sights!"

First on Steve's "let's see how has the world changed" list, was, of course, the Statue of Liberty. At least, it was on the list until Tony remembered how much he hated lines, and Steve remembered how unexciting it had been to begin with, and they both agreed to move on. They walked the streets a lot, checking out shops here and there and just generally getting Steve accustomed to what the streets of New York were like when they weren't under alien attack.

They were recognized a number of times, until they stopped in at one of the stores and bought some new clothes and a couple hats to disguise themselves. Tony as Steve had been rather insistent on buying geezer clothes and an extremely fake-looking white beard, saying that he could disguise himself as what Steve would look like at his real age of 90-something, until Steve as Tony countered that if Tony as Steve wore the old man beard, Steve as Tony would shave off Tony's real beard.

Tony didn't buy the beard.

They got lunch in a couple of places, mostly different ethnic restaurants Steve showed an interest in. With Tony as Steve's new appetite and metabolism, they ended up eating lunch in around 6 different places, though Steve as Tony only had lunch the once and was more than pleased just observing all the new places and taking it all in. Tony also got away with having coffee in every place. Usually Pepper monitored his supply, but Steve hadn't yet discovered that was necessary.

Before the caffeine kicked in, they actually had a number of rather serious conversations amidst their chatter and teasing; Steve reminisced about the differences between the world he'd grown up in and the world today, eventually touching on more the more personal, things about his rough childhood, even rougher teen years, Bucky, his parents, and even Peggy at one point.

Tony, for his part, found it easy to keep his mouth shut for once. It wasn't something to joke about; Steve clearly needed to talk about these things, get them out of his system somehow. Tony could certainly relate, and when Steve was finished, he shared a little about his past in return, though they avoided the subject of Howard by unspoken agreement. Tony mentioned his mother in passing and her general love of all charities, galas and events because it meant being seen with family and not being involved in it, he talked a lot about the original Jarvis and where the JARVIS name had come from (though it technically stood for Just Another Rather Very Intelligent System, it had a lot more to do with the butler that essentially raised Tony in his parent's usual absence), and a lot about Rhodey and Pepper. He even began to touch on the weird, slight disconnect he and Pepper had been having lately, but then the caffeine began to kick in and Tony as Steve found himself more eager to move than talk.

Hyped up and ready to go, Tony as Steve's show-the-frozen-Captain-the-new-world initiative was restored, and he dragged Steve as Tony around for another few hours, showing him all the big fancy buildings Steve liked to draw and chattering away about all the reasons Stark Tower was so much better. They passed Hammer Tower, and Tony as Steve got all pissy about how it was basically a cheap attempt at a knock-off of Stark Tower. He even tripped one of the employees as they were leaving the building, and Steve as Tony, of course, flipped out because, well, to anyone watching, Captain America had just tripped someone.

He dragged Tony as Steve away insisting that he not do that again, but when Tony as Steve kept pouting, Steve as Tony admitted that he'd drawn both Hammer and Stark Tower and though he could see the similarities there was really no comparison. While Hammer Tower was blunt and seemed to stick out of it's surroundings, Steve talked about how Stark Tower's sleek outer simplicity masked the inner complexity and made it much more visually accessible and Tony as Steve just looked at Steve as Tony, eyes wide.

Steve as Tony blushed, maybe he was talking too much, "What's the look for?"

"_Thank _you."

After that, they walked a few blocks before Steve as Tony suddenly dragged Tony as Steve into a little café. Tony as Steve was about to protest, when he saw the clear excitement in Steve as Tony's eyes as he said he recognized this place, that he'd been here before, Tony as Steve gave in. The waitress recognized Steve, but of course it was Tony in his body, so there was a brief moment where Tony as Steve returned her recognition with a blank stare, before Steve as Tony kicked him under the table and Tony as Steve blabbed something about yeah, yeah, great to see you too, goodness golly gosh I just love it here, great saving you and all, go America and then Steve as Tony kicked him again, but he was trying not to laugh so Tony figured he was probably in the clear.

"So are you waiting for the big guy again?" the blonde waitress questioned them.

"Who?" Tony as Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Iron Man, you know. You even got to fight with him, what was that like?"

Before Tony as Steve could answer, he noticed that Steve as Tony was grinning, and Tony just _knew _Steve was going to make him regret the "Go America" comment.

He was, of course, right.

"Really now? People wait here to see…" Steve as Tony pulled off his hat and sunglasses in a marvelous mockery of Tony's usual showmanship, "Little old me?"

"Oh wow! Mr. Stark!" the waitress exclaimed, "Is that really you?"

"Why yes it is," Steve as Tony grinned, obviously mocking Tony's usual charm, "I know, I know, I'm super cool and fantastic and all, feel free to begin worshipping the ground I walk on anytime now."

"I do _not _sound like that, you liar," Tony as Steve accused, though he couldn't help but smile.

Okay, maybe he could sound a _little _like that. Sometimes.

"Wow," the waitress murmured, unfazed by their little exchanges, "You both saved all our lives, it's an honor to meet you."

"Well, y'know, it's what I do," Steve as Tony kicked his feet up, still mimicking Tony's usual behavior.

"Still. You're both amazing…I can't even imagine doing what you did," she turned to Tony as Steve now, "After all you've been through…how do you do it?"

Tony as Steve paused, and Steve was already expecting a sarcastic 'for America, ma'am!' or something of that nature, but Tony surprised him.

"I just know it's the right thing to do. I'll always fight for what's right, protect the innocent. That's Captain America's duty, ma'am, and it's just the kind of guy Steve Rogers is. Bullies don't stand a chance."

"No they don't," she smiled back, unaware that the comment had been directed less at her and more at Steve, "Well, thank you again. Meal's on us, for all you've done."

They said thank you and ordered, both quickly falling back into their easy conversation from before. Yet, Steve couldn't quite manage to get the look Tony gave him out of his head.

_That's just the kind of guy Steve Rogers is._

And then they got arrested.

Well, it didn't happen quite like that, but it sure felt like it.

Right as they were finishing their meals, the disgruntled Hammer Tower employee Tony as Steve had tripped earlier caught sight of them, and demanded to know what the great Captain America's problem with him was. Though he may have looked like Steve, Tony was still Tony; meaning he didn't really like it when explanations were demanded from him, _especially _from Hammer Tower suits.

Which might explain why instead of giving a real answer, Tony as Steve gave the guy a rather lengthy verbal lashing before telling him to stick his superiority complex where the sun don't shine.

Which, in retrospect, was not the best idea.

Steve as Tony leapt up, of course, meaning to drag Tony as Steve away before things got any worse. But The Hammer Tower exec recognized Tony Stark, and-though it was really Steve, who would never hit a civilian unprovoked (probably even if provoked)-seeing Tony Stark jump up suddenly freaked the guy out. Thinking the volatile Tony Stark was about to hit him or something, the guy decided to strike first, throwing the first punch and landing a clean blow to Steve as Tony's nose.

Tony as Steve wasted no time in throwing the second.

With his new Captain America strength, the guy of course went flying. Before Steve as Tony could gather his wits and drag Tony as Steve away, the police intervened. Tony being Tony, even though he was in Steve's body, argued with them, trying to get justice for the fact that he hadn't thrown the first punch. The police kept bringing his unnatural strength into it, something about a bigger responsibility, but of course Tony as Steve wouldn't have it.

Of course, Coulson heard about it over the police channel, and, by proxy, so did the other Avengers. The street very quickly parted to grant them access to what was becoming a mob scene. Coulson demanded to know what was going on, and before the police could explain, Tony as Steve snapped,

"That bastard punched Steve in the face."

Which of course earned him numerous weird looks and his fifth "fuck you Stark you're going to be the end of me damn it" look from Coulson this week.

"I mean, me-I mean, Tony. He punched Tony in the face."

"Why did he punch SHIELD brother Tony?" Thor as Natasha demanded, earning further odd looks, "Tis only fair there be retribution!"

"Fucking Stark leapt up, he was going to attack me!" the Hammer Towers employee complained.

"I was _going _to pull T-Steve away from you," Steve as Tony muttered, not that anyone was listening.

"You know what, fuck you, I'd do it again, 'heroes' my ass!" the suit proclaimed.

"I give you fair warning, mortal, do not insult my SHIELD brothers again," Thor as Natasha warned.

"Fuck you, bitch!"

And then it all went to hell.

* * *

6:05pm Agent, your nightly update is late. -F

6:15pm Agent Coulson, should I be concerned? -F

6:45pm I am officially concerned. -F

6:47pm Is this Stark's fault? -F

6:52pm Stark, I know you read his messages, if Agent Coulson doesn't update me by 7:30 on the dot we are going to have problems like you can't comprehend. -F

6:53pm Just retrieved my phone. Everyone in jail. Working on it. –C

6:54pm Yes, it's Stark's fault. -C

7:01pm I should just retire before this job gives me a fucking ulcer. –F

* * *

"You know, Stark, there's not that much difference between you and Loki. You're both about 50% daddy issues, 30% sarcasm, and 20% bored antics that generally involve destruction. Up til now, the only difference was which side of the law you fell on. Now you're behind bars, and the question I'm asking myself is…is it really responsible of me to let you out?"

"Don't be a jackass, Coulson."

"Oh my God, Tony, stop swearing with my mouth!"

Tony as Steve and Coulson continued their glaring match without acknowledging Steve as Tony's complaint. Finally, Coulson sighed, and signaled for the officer to open the bars.

"This is a one time only deal buddy, I'm not doing this for you again."

"Who's money paid the bail again?" Tony as Steve waved him off as they went to meet up with the others where Happy was waiting outside.

"There was no bail yet, I got you out through pure diplomacy, something you wouldn't understand if it punched you in the face. Which, you should have been and not Steve."

"Agreed," Steve as Tony grumbled, holding a tissue to his bleeding nose.

"Steve, that hurts," Tony as Steve pouted, but Steve as Tony just raised an eyebrow, no longer falling for the kicked puppy routine.

"Besides, if I wanted you stuck in jail, Stark, believe you me I could make it happen," Coulson shook his head.

"Well, that's thoroughly disconcerting. How come you let everyone else out without the 'never again, you evil fuckup' speech?"

"No one else is an evil fuckup," Coulson shrugged, walking out to the waiting car while Tony and Steve retrieved their personal items.

"Tony_-"_

"_Okay_, I got it, I'll watch the language."

"No, just…I mean, thank you. For today."

"I didn't know you had any desire to see the inside of a prison cell. You could have just told me so, I could have arranged it without the part where we got handcuffed," Tony as Steve joked.

"Not that part," Steve as Tony jostled Tony as Steve playfully with his elbow, "Before that. For the lunches, for showing me around, for…well, for all of it."

It was clear he was thinking about the times he'd shared perhaps slightly more personal information than Tony had wanted to know; but Tony had shared in return for a reason.

"It was my pleasure, Steve."

* * *

"I am _not _watching Finding Nemo again, Captain Disney, and that's final."

"But Marlin was so brave and-"

"No."

Steve and Tony stared at each other for a long minute, neither willing to back down.

"I too am in favor of this movie; perhaps this time the forgetful fish will remember the small one's name," Thor as Natasha added, the look of delight still strange instead of Natasha's usual poker face.

"For the last time, Thor, movies are always the same, _nothing will change," _Clint as Bruce groaned.

"I'm with Tony, we've watched a lot of Disney movies already. If we're doing cultural education for Steve and Thor, we should try one of the non-animated classics," Bruce as Clint suggested.

"Freckles is right," Clint as Bruce agreed, snatching the remote from Tony as Steve and switching it, "Die Hard it is."

"I really don't think violent movies are good for you right now," Bruce as Clint sighed, swiping the remote back away from him before he could press play.

"Please, I've totally got it under control," Clint as Bruce scoffed, then scowled when everyone shot him dubious looks, "I am!"

"In the past week you've nearly Hulked out like 10 times," Tony as Steve rolled his eyes, "JARVIS, got a better number for me?"

"14, sir."

"14, what'd I tell ya?"

"Whatever, man. You guys suck. And for the last time, I _Hawk _out-"

"You can say it as much as you want Clint, it's not going to catch on," Natasha as Thor sighed.

"Preferably, we'd rather you not do either," Coulson added.

"Tony, just throw on Princess Bride, you know that's where this is going," Pepper sighed, cutting through the banter.

"C'mon, Pep, even Steve's seen-"

"What's Princess Bride?" Steve as Tony piped up, "I thought you said we were done with Disney."

Everyone turned to look at Steve as Tony.

Steve as Tony looked back, woefully unaware of how serious an offense this was. Tony collapsed on the couch between Steve and Pepper, taking Steve as Tony by the shoulders.

"You're going to sit here and watch this movie or so help me I will chain you here until you do."

"O…kay?" Steve as Tony blinked, "I was going to anywa-?"

"Shhhh, it's okay now," Tony as Steve talked over him, patted his shoulder comfortingly, ignored Steve as Tony's confusion as he clicked play, "It's gonna be okay. Now pay attention here, cause when the movie opens-"

"Tony, if you talk through the movie he's not going to get it."

"I'm not _talking, _Pep, I'm providing commentary. It's necessary for the Captain's complete understanding. Now hush, it's starting!"

Movies generally weren't Tony's "thing". He paid attention, sure, but he tended to talk the whole way through them or fidget with his phone, half listening, half working. As a result, Pepper didn't watch many movies with Tony; he was always talking or working through them, and he'd never been one to cuddle period, much less during movies, so she really hadn't found any point in trying to get him to watch them with her.

It wasn't until around halfway through the movie that she noticed.

She'd been paying attention to the movie, so it was only when she got up to get more popcorn from the kitchen that she saw Tony stretched out, relaxing up against Steve. He had his head resting on Steve's shoulder and his knees curled up while he fiddled with his phone. Steve had his arm up on the back of the couch, so Tony just seemed to fit snugly under his arm.

For a brief, flicker of a moment, Pepper found herself hurt, wondering why he would cuddle with Steve and not her.

Then, of course, the moment passed; it was a silly thought. They obviously weren't _cuddling_, jeez, Tony was just leaning on the guy. Besides, it was fantastic that Tony and Steve were bonding; it was exactly what she and Coulson and pretty much everyone else involved had been pushing since the beginning, for the team to bond. She was glad they'd spent the day together, even if it had ended with Coulson pulling every string he had to keep their antics off the news.

Tony needed some friends he didn't feel were "paid for", so to speak. Though she had told Tony a million times that of _course _she and Rhodey didn't hang around because he paid them, it was still hard to get the thought out of his head. His entire life had been like that-"friends" coming and going because they were attempting to impress his parents, or stay on payroll, or trying to get a slice of the billion-dollar Tony Stark pie.

It was a hard thought to combat, but Steve did so perfectly; the old-fashioned guy would hardly let Tony pay a dime at his expense without a fight.

So she completely ignored any thoughts she had about why Tony would be comfortable cuddling up to Steve and not her, and instead focused on enjoying the fact that the team was beginning to bond at last. After a day like today, who wouldn't have bonded? But it was great to _see _it, even just in the way they sat on the couch together.

Natasha as Thor was in the corner, arms over the back of the couch with Clint as Bruce's feet in her (well, Thor's) lap, and Coulson leaning into against Natasha as Thor's shoulder. The rest of Clint was stretched out across Bruce as Clint's lap, where Bruce as Clint was softly stroking Clint as Bruce's hair, murmuring something about how "wow, my hair really _is _soft" and Clint laughing back an "I told you so". Bruce as Clint was leaning into Thor as Natasha, who had his back lying against Steve as Tony's shoulders, and Tony as Steve was curled up under Steve as Tony's arm.

They were finally one big, confusing, wonderful ball of a family.


	8. Chapter 8

When Steve woke up, he turned over to discover there was a Pepper in his bed again. His first thought was _ohmygodbreasts. _His second, after he quickly realized that she was clothed and there was no reason to avert his eyes to the ceiling and hyperventilate like he had been, was that if Tony had done anything more than literally just slept with Pepper in his body, he was going to _kill _him.

When Tony woke up, he wondered why the hell he was wearing clothes. Because seriously, who wore clothes to bed? Then he realized that he was in his own body again, and he had a brief moment of mourning for the insanely gorgeous body he'd just lost before he got up to go find Steve before he freaked out about Pepper.

When Bruce woke up, he was naked on the Avenger's doorstep with a sticky note on his forehead that said "found nude in a tree, returning to owner". He wasn't sure what to think about that exactly.

When Clint woke up, he was in bed instead of in a tree, and he spent ten minutes celebrating his "return to awesomeness" before realizing Bruce was going to be very confused. And naked.

When Natasha woke up, she felt a familiar balance, and realized she was once again female. Though she was thankful, she couldn't help but feel the littlest bit of hope that Thor would still allow her to assist him in finding his brother.

When Thor woke up, he was just disappointed to have lost his boobs.

Clearly, everything had returned to normal.

"Tony, if you slept with Pepper in my body-!" Steve was barreling down the hallway as Tony exited his room.

"I didn't!" Tony threw his hands up in innocence, "Calm down, Captain Purity Ring. We're dating. Pepper crawled into bed with me, that's all."

"You swear?" Steve eyed him cautiously.

"I swear," Tony nodded, then paused briefly, "Why…oh my god. You really _are _a virgin, aren't you?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been a little busy!" Steve flushed, unsure why it mattered anyway.

"Too busy to get busy? Captain, there's no such thing," Tony shook his head in mock disappointment.

"Tony," Steve just rolled his eyes fondly.

"You two are getting along a fair shade better than I saw last," a very familiar Asgardian drawled, an amused smile on his face.

"Loki!" Steve blinked, eyes wide, then dropped to a fighting stance.

"JARVIS, how'd he-" Tony demanded, but was cut off.

"He appeared inside just a brief moment ago, sir, I-"

"You have some nerve," Steve threatened.

"Fret not, mortals, I have no quarrel with you on this day," Loki waved them both off, "I'm merely here to see-"

An arrow shot past his head, and Loki sighed.

"Barton, I would appreciate if you would try not to kill me."

"That was me trying," Clint had appeared and already had another arrow aimed and ready, "It's called a warning shot, and I don't do it twice. Now scram before Thor-"

"Brother?"

"Thor," Loki glanced up to see Thor entering their hall, "I have come to-oof!"

The rest of his sentence was cut off as Thor tackled the deviant god in a bone-crushing hug.

"Loki, we must make haste!" Thor declared, "SHIELD is not likely to take kindly the trickery you have played-"

"Trickery that has helped you, has it not?" Loki intoned dryly, shaking Thor off and raising an eyebrow.

"_Helped? _He got arrested in my body!" Steve pointed at Tony, "The world thinks Captain America assaulted a civilian unprovoked!"

"Hey now, we hushed that up pretty effectively," Tony pouted, "And I was only defending you, you're the one he punched in the first place."

"Tony," Steve sighed, exasperated, "I told you before, I didn't need defending, I-"

"You two will always babble on, won't you?" Loki sighed, then he reasoned, "But is this chatter not better than your disengaged silence and aggressive insults from before?"

Tony and Steve both fell silent, neither wiling to admit that the tricky god actually had a point. Even Clint took a moment's pause, considering how much better off they all were when Tony and Steve got along. He thought of Natasha's outings with Thor, and his own improved relationship with Bruce. Come to think of it, they'd all been getting along better lately, even Pepper and Coulson, mostly because they'd had to team up to wrangle all the craziness of the last few weeks.

"It is why you have returned to your original forms. You have walked a mile in each other's shoes, to use your Midgardian phrasing," Loki waved a hand, as if it were irrelevant, "I came expecting thanks, and I am instead welcomed by your usual 'heroic' buffoonery. It seems I should perhaps not have come at all."

"Brother, I will not so easily let you slip from my grasp again," Thor insisted, "Come, return with me to Asgard."

"And yet you miss the point, dear brother," Loki shook his head, the 'dear brother' perhaps a little less poisonously sarcastic than usual, "My place is there, and return there I shall. But do you not prefer your beloved Midgard? Have these peasants not become your friends?"

Thor glanced around at his teammates, clearly considering Loki's words. It was at this point that Natasha entered the room. Upon seeing Loki she began to reach for a weapon, but upon meeting eyes with Thor, she dropped her hand instead.

As simple a movement as it was, they all knew that Natasha was never one not to draw a weapon. The fact that she hadn't, for Thor's sake, knowing he didn't want a fight between them and Loki…his brother's words had been true. They were more than just his teammates now, they were his friends.

"They are my friends," Thor nodded, "And I should like stay here to keep guard over Midgard with them. But you shall return to Asgard?"

"I shall. I belong not here."

"It's possible you burned that bridge when you tried to burn the city," Clint quipped dryly, though Thor remained focused on Loki, laying a strong hand on the smaller man's shoulder.

"I shall visit you when I can, brother."

"And I you," Loki's lips quirked then, and though Thor saw it as nothing more than a simple smile, the others saw it for the devious smirk it was. They would be hearing from Loki again, that much was certain.

"Maybe you two should just write each other instead," Tony suggested, "Really, visiting is overrated. We'll call you or something. Maybe."

"As always, Stark, your Midgardian humor is without charm and will not be missed," Loki shot back with another smirk that hinted of future plans, then disappeared before Thor could get in another bone-crushing hug.

"As always, you were _weird and cyptic as fuck!" _Tony shouted back, though Loki had gone quite far out of hearing range.

"Let it go, Tony," Steve chuckled in spite of himself.

"I didn't see a thing," Coulson said, catching all of their attention as he moved out from behind the corner, "Loki's name alone qualifies for a mountain of paperwork."

"What about-"

"I don't want to even hear it, Stark," Coulson rubbed his forehead with one hand, "I'm going to go watch my DVRed episodes of Supernanny, because, let's face it, we have the same job except I don't get a camera crew and at the end of the day, I'm stuck living with you all. Fair warning, if any of you fuckers interrupts me, I will not hesitate to tase you."

"Aw, Coulson, baby, I thought that was _our_ thing," Tony said with mock betrayal.

"Since no one else is stupid enough to bug me, believe me, it's our thing," Coulson snorted, heading off for the rec room. He paused, then, turned back and shot them all one more, final warning, "No one says a _word _to Fury."

* * *

It was three weeks after they changed back, smack in the middle of their bi-weekly meeting with Fury, when Thor interrupted to assure them all that he had finally heard from the Allfather that Loki had indeed returned to Asgard as promised. Fury started swearing/yelling while Coulson started explaining/attempting to kill Thor with the power of his eyes. Thor looked guiltily at the ground, Natasha sighed and went back to playing a paper clip game with Bruce, and Clint continued sleeping with his eyes open. All in all, no one was paying any attention.

So when Tony scribbled _Italian?_ on Steve's notepaper, instead of throwing back the usual _Food__ later, focus now_ he instead gave an actual reply.

_Mario's or the new place down the block?_

_Let's go new, Mario's is getting old._

_You're just saying that cause the waitress recognized me and not you._

_Shut up, you only had a hat, I had a beard._

_You and that beard._

_It's fluffy. I should grow a real beard._

_You _have _a real beard._

_No, a big fluffy one._

_Why, so you can look like a homeless person?  
_

_Excuse you, I would be the sexiest homeless guy who ever lived. Also the richest. And the one who owns the most homes._

_I still don't think you should grow a beard._

_You're just prejudiced. You forties people are so closed-minded._

_Against beards?_

_Yes. I say, may bearded people of all colors and nations live freely._

_Go ahead, grow a beard. See if Pepper will kiss you then._

Steve had meant it to be funny, but instead of coming back with one of his usual quick, witty replies, Tony just tapped his pen thoughtfully. He seemed to be debating whether or not to say something, so Steve wrote again.

_What's wrong? Are you and Pepper okay?_

_I don't know, I think..._

Then, Tony scratched it out and wrote.

_Nah, we're fine._

_Are you sure, becaus_

_Tony, I'm just tryi_

_Stop tha_

_Finefinefinefinefine_

_Writing it more doesn't make it bet_

_FINE_

_Neither do big letters, and if you smack the pen out of my hand one more time I'm going t_

"If you two are finished?" Fury raised an eyebrow at them, and Steve paused in his writing.

Even though Steve had stopped writing, even though everyone was dead silent as Fury glared at them, Tony reached across the table and smacked the pen out of Steve's hand again.

Steve shot him a glare.

"It's fine," Tony waved Fury off, then, directed more to Steve than the other knew, "We're fine."

"Whatever," Fury rolled his eye at last, "I give up on you fuckers. Meeting dismissed."

They all trudged out, and Steve pulled Tony aside until the others all left.

"Tony-"

"Look, can we just…" Tony shifted uncomfortably, "Forget it? I'm not even sure what I meant, just talking out my ass as usual. I'm fucking starving, I could _really _go for some Italian right now, I heard the new place has great cheesy bread and you love the stuff, so let's just go there and…continue not talking about this."

"If you want," Steve nodded, then, "If you want to talk, Tony…"

"I know," Tony gave a small smile in return, and Steve let the subject drop.

If Tony wanted to talk about it, he knew he could talk to Steve.

So they forgot about it and started walking to Rio Italiano, the new place around the block. They talked about a lot of things, but Steve could tell the Pepper problem, whatever it was, was still eating at Tony. There was a lull in the conversation, and though he told himself not to bring it up, Tony did it for him.

"It doesn't feel right," Tony mumbled. Steve paused a moment, making sure they were in fact talking about what he thought they were. One look at Tony's expression, and he knew they were.

"What makes you say that?"

"Hell if I know. It just…doesn't feel right," Tony shook his head, clearly unable to find a good answer, even for himself, "I mean, this is _Pepper Potts_. She got my life in some form of order within ten minutes of knowing me, and this is _my _life we're talking about, no easy task there. Pepper is..." Tony gesticulated for a moment, searching for words, "The whole package, the complete deal, the dream..."

"But?" Steve could see there was more, something Tony was still processing.

"She's…" Tony glanced up, unsure about whether or not what he was about to say would make sense, "She and I...we've lived, we still live, very different lives. She's not like me. And that's a good thing, that's a _great _thing, it just...there are things she can't always understand."

"I see," Steve nodded, taking this in. It was entirely reasonable; though the Avengers were certainly heroes, they each had their own dark, complicated issues that made them who they were today, and every once in a while, those issues raised their heads.

"She changed my arc reactor, once," Tony murmured, thoughtful. Steve said nothing, knowing Tony wasn't finished, "It freaked her out, to put it kindly."

"I'm sure she got over it, after she-"

"She made me promise to never make her do anything like that again," Tony was chuckling, but it rang hollow.

"Tony, you know if it came to that, I'm sure she would in a heartbeat."

"Obviously if I was dying on the floor, yeah, but...what got me was that she didn't say that. She just made me promise not to make her do it again, like I'd asked her to for kicks or something. Thing is, in her world, that sort of scenario doesn't happen, so she didn't even consider it," Suddenly Tony's voice went dry and utterly humorless, a bitter self-loathing mixed in now, "Y'know I don't even take my shirt off around her anymore? I mean, she never said anything, but it's on her face clear as day. She can't even look at it. The reactor is the only thing keeping me alive...and she can't even look at it."

Tony's voice was heartbreakingly quiet, and there wasn't anything Steve could say, so he said nothing. Without even a moment's thought, instead of opening the door and going into the Italian place, he stopped and pulled Tony into a hug. Steve was tall enough that his chin rested on Tony's ruffled hair, and he liked it; it was comfortable, the way Tony fit against him. Tony wasn't stiff, not exactly, but it was clear he hadn't been expecting the physical contact by any means. After a brief moment, however, he relaxed and slipped his arms around Steve's waist in a loose return of the gesture. They broke apart, and Steve patted Tony on the back.

"Sorry," Tony mumbled.

"Don't be," Steve shook his head, stepping forward to open the door, "And I'm sure in time, she'll get used to it, Tony. It's a lot to adjust to."

"It's fine. It's not even that, not really. I mean, it is, but it's not the problem that matters, y'know?" Tony rambled a little, talking as he was thinking while they found a booth, "I mean, it's the sort of thing where if you love each other you work through it, right? But it's not just that. It's that's she just, she's what I wish I could be, y'know? And I-ooh, hey, do you guys serve any-"_  
_

Tony had spotted a waiter, and proceeded to rattle off something long and rather complicated sounding in Italian. The waiter replied enthusiastically, and Steve was pretty sure he heard a "ci" or something in there, which he was pretty sure meant yes.

Pretty sure.

"Uh," Steve raised an eyebrow at Tony, then turned to their server who was now looking at him expectantly, "Same."

"Copycat," Tony stuck his tongue out as the waiter took their menus.

"Seeing as I don't speak Italian, 'same' is probably the only food on that menu I can pronounce," Steve chuckled, "What am I having, exactly?"

"A ravioli dish. I had it last time I was in Italy," Tony shrugged, like he jetted off to Italy every other weekend.

It occurred to Steve that, well, if Tony wanted to go to Italy every other weekend, he probably could, and Steve suddenly found himself impossibly grateful for the fact that he stayed here with him instead. Not just for all the touristy meals after meetings and on days they were free, but for everything. For the movie nights, for all the meandering, half-lost half-exploring they did downtown, for the trips to aquariums and museums and carnivals and all those things Tony had to absolutely hate but knew Steve loved. For the times they just hung out in Tony's workshop, often talking but sometimes just comfortable being around each other, Steve sketching and Tony inventing. For all how-to's on phones and computers and even the stupidly easy microwave. For the pop culture lessons Tony had traded for art lessons, because even though Steve wasn't all that interested in today's hit music and Tony wasn't all that interested in how to sketch his own hand, they were interested in what the other was interested in. It was friendship; Steve could honestly say that Tony was his best friend, and he knew that Tony would say the same, and Steve was so impossibly grateful for that.

Steve asked him about Italy and Tony talked about it for a while, and their conversation was steered off course until their meals arrived, and Steve remembered something.

"Tony?"

"Mm?" Tony glanced up, already with a mouthful ravioli.

"What did you mean, she was what you wished you could be?" Steve didn't have to clarify the she.

"Well in case you haven't noticed Cap," Tony swallowed his food with a chuckle, "I'm not exactly a model citizen."

"Who is?" Steve shrugged.

"This from Captain fucking America," Tony snorted derisively.

"I really don't appreciate you throwing expletives into my name."

"There you go, 'expletives', you don't even call them swears or curses, they're 'expletives'," Tony laughed, a grin splitting his face as he looked back to Steve, "You're really something."

"Thank you. I think," Steve chuckled, then shook his head, "Anyway, I still don't follow you."

"Oh, I don't know," Tony huffed, biting into his ravioli perhaps a bit aggressively, "Just a feeling. I mean, isn't that the theory anyway, that's it's all about feeling?"

"Theory? I don't know if there's any one 'theory' about love," Steve considered.

"Oh, there's always theories," Tony dismissed him with a wave of his fork, "But I just mean isn't that what women always say, 'you know when you know'?"

"Tony, I am the _last_ person you want to talk to about what dames think," Steve grinned with a shake of his head.

"Look at you, with your 'dames'," Tony snickered, amused.

"Oh, hush. Ladies, women, what have you. I'm hardly the go-to man."

"Fine, fine, I just mean you always hear about the premature ventricular contractions, the extra circulation to the face, the reduced blood flow-"

"Stop showing off," Steve hid a fond smile as he swatted at Tony's hand with his fork, and Tony stuck out his tongue before continuing.

"Hearts skip beats, you blush excessively, butterflies in the stomach, et cetera," Tony waved a hand, as if bored, then began babbling again, "But she's Pepper, so of course she's got the whole affair on lockdown, complete with a timeline and a plan and really, I've never been good at following other people's plans and the results are usually rather disappointing. Not that I want to disappoint her, I actually really don't, but my opinion doesn't seem to matter since I'm wrecking it no matter what I do. She's in love, naturally, I mean, look at me, and I should be too, but I don't really know, cause I mean, sure, I might be, but she expects me to just _know _that I am too, and I don't just know, I don't even know how I would know if I knew, and-"

"How _do _you know?" Steve leaned back in the booth, considering it thoughtfully.

Tony was about to snap an irritated 'that's what I'm trying to figure out', but paused. He examined Steve's face, and realized the soldier was thinking aloud more than anything, so he curbed his tongue.

"I think…" Tony paused, then, with another glance at Steve, "I think it's when you know someone, _really_ know them. Not just the good things about them, but their quirks, their flaws, their imperfections. It's when you know all that and you can still only see them as perfect, because they're_ not_. Because they're human in the best way possible. It's when you know their faults and they know yours and at the end of the day, you know you love each other anyway."

There's silence a moment, before Steve looks him in the eyes and smiles.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you're right."

"Well, stop the presses."

"Shut up," Steve chastises fondly, "I mean, think about what you just said. You said that at the end of the day, you know you love each other. So...do you know?"

Tony didn't.

He didn't _not _love her. Hell, she was _Pepper Potts. _He'd known her for a decade, known her for the literal better half of his life, not in time but in quality. But at the end of the day, when they curled up together in bed (if they even did, because more and more often lately he found himself passing out in the workshop or even the couch and wasn't _that _a fucking neon 'trouble' sign if ever there was one), he didn't know.

And maybe that said it more clearly than anything else.

"Thanks," Tony smiled at Steve, one of his rare, real smiles, and Steve couldn't help but feel that made the entire conversation worth it.

"What're friends for?" Steve smiled back, and they continued their meal.

By the time they were walking back to the Tower, the Pepper talk had faded and drifted to the back of both their minds. Instead, they were now discussing the super soldier serum and it's effects.

"I mean, I have all the scientific files in the workshop, but…" Tony paused, then, "I wasn't particularly inclined to read more of my dad's notes than were important. He took a lot though, if you ever…I don't know, if you ever wanted to read them, I know he was your friend, you're welcome to them. They're in the basement somewhere, JARVIS can help you find them I'm sure."

"Thank you," Steve wasn't particularly interested, and his opinion of Howard had certainly wavered in light of the few things he'd learned about how the man treated his son, but he knew it was incredibly big of Tony to offer, to even bring it up at all, so said, "I'll take a look when we get back."

"Alright," Tony nodded, clearly moving on from that part of the conversation, "I learned more from watching you in action, anyway."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah. You know, when I was a kid…" Tony grinned, divulging a secret, "I totally thought you could fly."

"What?" Steve blinked, surprised, "They told people I could _fly_?"

"No, but you always had the wings," Tony tapped the sides of his own head where the wings on Steve's costume were, "I dunno, I thought it meant something. I imagined it was like a last-resort secret weapon type thing, and that was why they didn't tell the public."

"Are you kidding?" Steve laughed, "If I could fly, there wouldn't be enough money in the world to get me to keep it a secret. I would fly _everywhere._"

"Are you telling me that Steve Rogers, super-powered super soldier extraordinaire, just wishes he could fly?"

"You got it," Steve nodded wistfully. Then, though he never thought he would tell anyone about it, he couldn't stop himself from saying, "You know, I tried once."

"You tried…_to fly?" _the look Tony gave him was priceless, entirely worth revealing the rather embarrassing factoid.

"I did indeed. First time they left me alone after I got injected, I tried my dang hardest," Steve shook his head with an embarrassed, shamed grin, "Jumped around a bit, even tried to flap my arms. Didn't work, of course, only made myself look like an utter fool. Glad I didn't try in front of anyone I knew, I never would've lived it down."

"You know…" Tony grinned, an idea forming in his mind, "If you wanted to fly, all you had to do was ask."

Steve tried not smile too excitedly, and completely failed. Tony grabbed him by the wrist and they raced the short rest of the way back to the Tower, Steve eager to fly and Tony eager to help him. So, just to be clear, they honestly hadn't _meant _to start a riot, become the national symbol for gay rights, and get Coulson fired and rehired twice.

And yet, they did all of these things in the span of the next hour.


	9. Chapter 9

"Okay."

Coulson breathed out, then in, deep breaths to calm himself before he took one or both of their idiot heads off. He was standing in front of the entire team, Tony and Steve in the middle, both looking appropriately ashamed of themselves as he paced back and forth, rubbing his fingers against the bridge of his nose in frustrated thought.

"Which one of you is going to tell me what in the fucking _hell _made you two think this would be a good idea?"

"Well-"

"Nope," Coulson held up a hand just as Tony began to speak, "You know what, I change my mind. I want to hear this from Steve, because if you open your mouth again tonight I might rip it off. Steve, what _exactly _were you thinking when you rode Tony in public?"

"Steve did _what?_" Pepper exclaimed, entering the room at precisely the wrong moment.

"Something about gay rights," Coulson sighed, entirely too old for this job.

"Jesus Christ Tony, you don't have to sleep with someone to prove you're in favor of gay rights!" Pepper shouted, and both Tony and Steve blinked back with wide-eyed confusion, "And _yes _that counts as cheating, you moron!"

"Okay, for the record, I know I'm supposed to keep my mouth shut, but can I respond to that?" Tony raised a hand, and Coulson nodded with an exasperated sigh. Before he could speak, Steve did.

"We didn't do _t-that!_" Steve spluttered, "Phil phrased it weird, I just, I _literally _rode him, like, uh, on his back. While he flew. Cause. I, um. Wanted to. Fly."

Steve's words became quieter and quieter as he blushed crimson, realizing as he spoke that while it cleared Tony of cheating, it didn't exactly make either of them sound much better.

Coulson slapped a StarkPad into Pepper's hands, an image of Captain America riding on Iron Man's back, his arms out wide and a gleeful grin on his face while Iron Man zoomed about with the enlarged, rather distasteful title, _Superheroes Or Supergay? _The source was a filthy gossip rag, but she scrolled down to find a list of other articles, some classier about it than others, all released just this afternoon. God, it was an absolute media _frenzy. _What could they have _possibly _done to incite something like that? Tony letting Steve fly with him was hardly enough to have gotten such a response. One of the articles had a photo gallery attached, and she clicked through it. There were pictures of Tony and Steve galore, all from today.

Some were from a restaurant somewhere, pictures of them in a booth smiling at each other over their food, of Steve playfully swatting at Tony with his fork, of Tony sticking his tongue out at Steve and Steve laughing it off. After that there were more pictures of Steve on Tony's back, Steve looking like he was going to explode with giddy happiness, Tony even pulling a few flight maneuvers and Steve gripping on for dear life and laughing after. The last few were pictures of them sitting in that stupid donut Tony loved, chatting and eating donuts and clearly altogether ignoring the huge crowd forming beneath them.

Sure, anything could be taken in the wrong context, and they certainly looked very close, but that was because they _were_. They were the best of friends lately, something the team and the media had noticed-when one or both of them didn't disguise themselves quite well enough-but the media had never taken the gay route with them before.

They'd certainly had opportunity to; they'd snapped pictures of them in plenty of very-friendly situations. There was one of them at the aquarium where Tony was pinching Steve's cheeks and making a kissy face (something about Steve looking like a puffer fish, Tony had later explained), one of them at a fair somewhere where Steve was presenting Tony with an absolutely ginormous bear (Steve insisted Tony had been upset even if he wouldn't say it, so Steve had attempted to cheer him up), and even one of Tony feeding Steve an expensive French dish (they didn't even have a good excuse for that one, something vague about how good food was totally worth the money and if Steve wasn't going to buy himself the good stuff, well, despite what some people thought Tony actually did too know how to share). All that and plenty more, and the media had never once come close to even _suggesting _the gay angle. Suddenly a little lunch, some flying, some donuts, and they're gay for each other?

There had to be more.

"I'm not seeing anything particularly new. Where does the 'they're suddenly gay' angle come in?" Pepper asked, ever the professional, clamping down on her knee-jerk emotional reaction, which was _when the hell was the last time you took _me_ out for lunch?_

"And that's where it all gets a little blurry," Coulson turned back to Tony and Steve, "Care to explain?"

"I told you we shouldn't have stopped for donuts," Steve sighed to Tony, who for once could only nod in agreement.

* * *

_**One Hour Ago**_

* * *

"You know what, Tony?"

"What, Steve?"

"It's not that I doubt you're a genius..."

"Heaven forbid."

"It's just that I think you conveniently forget sometimes."

"Now what could possibly make you say something so very hurtful?"

"Well, I just really don't think you've thought this through."

"Steve," Tony raised an eyebrow at him, finally pausing in his devouring of the dozen box donuts, "I am in my safe place right now. I have invited you into my safe place. If you do not shut up, I will kick you out of my safe place. Capiche?"

"...your safe place is the giant donut outside of Randy's Donuts?"

"Yes."

"Well, as ecstatic as I am to be invited into your happy place-"

"Was that sarcasm from the great Captain America?" Tony grinned slowly.

"I learned from the best," Steve stuck his tongue out in a very Tony-like fashion, and Tony just chucked a donut at him in return, "But I really think we need to acknowledge the fact there's a rather large crowd down there wondering why Captain America and Iron Man are sitting in a donut. I mean, isn't this vaguely illegal?"

"Fine, fine, I'm almost done," Tony huffed, grabbing the last donut. Then, to himself, "I should really make pockets in this thing, then I could just carry the donuts while I was flying around..."

Steve finished off his own donut, wondering exactly what the crowd down there wanted, anyway; they seemed rather rambunctious today. He also wondered when exactly he had begun to lead the kind of life that involved eating donuts in a giant donut shop sign with a multi-billion-dollar genius in an iron suit while wearing tights. Though it probably began the first time he put on those dang tights, he liked to blame it on Tony.

"You're going to ruin me one of these days," Steve sighed.

"I'm delighted you think I haven't already," Tony grinned in return, standing up on the donut's frame, "Now c'mon Capsicle, your iron steed awaits."

"You're such a dork," Steve snorted, taking Tony's hand for balance as he stood up.

"Says you, I heard you yelling 'whee' back there," Tony snickered, hauling Steve onto his back and taking off.

They were only in the air a moment before something hit the armor. Nothing large or even remotely threatening, but Tony paused flight and turned to see what it had been. It was…a can? He glanced back at the crowd, and it seemed a couple of other kids had followed suit, and were now throwing anything they could get their hands on up in Tony and Steve's direction. Most of the items didn't make it, but it was puzzling nonetheless. The superheroes exchanged a glance.

"Land," Steve nodded his head in the crowd's direction, "Let's see what that's about."

"Aye aye, Captain," Tony zoomed down, landing in the parking lot and bending slightly to let Steve dismount a bit more gracefully.

"Is there a problem here-" Steve began in his Captain America voice, but was quickly interrupted as the crowd pressed forward.

Their loud, upset voices blended together, but a few stood out.

"What do you think you're _doing?_"

"God, think of the children, would you?"

"This is insane, I can't _believe _you would dare to go out in public, right in front of us too!"

"Uh," Steve stuttered, his commanding presence momentarily lost in the confusion, "Tony?"

"Not a clue, Capt-whoa!" Tony was suddenly tackled, not to the ground, but pretty hard by a teenager. He almost engaged the repulsors, but stopped himself, "Hey, don't touch the merchandise, punk."

"Leave him alone!" the kid declared to the crowd, still hugging the Iron Man suit around the waist.

"Uh, I'm okay, kid," Tony, still completely clueless as to what was going on, tried to sidestep the kid's grasp, but he clung tight, "I'm, y'know, in an iron suit complete with missiles and repulsors, I think I'm good."

"Yeah!" another crowd was filing in from the street, making the already pretty big group of people in the parking lot even larger. One of them shouted, "They are who they are!"

"Steve," Tony glanced to Steve, who was watching the new crowd warily, "Are you getting a bad feeling about this?"

"About five minutes ago," Steve nodded.

"They're fucking _fags _is what they are!" someone snarled, and something clicked in both their brains.

"Hey, that kind of language is offensive," Steve commanded at the same time Tony shouted out, "I'm in a relationship, you ignorant jackass!"

"A relationship with the devil maybe!" the guy shouted back.

"Love is love, you bible-thumpers!" one of the new-comers challenged.

"That's not love, that's sin!" someone else sneered.

"What? I'm not in a relationship with _him," _Tony groaned, "I'm with Pepper, Jesus!"

"How dare you take the Lord's name in vain!"

"A sinner like you, of all people!"

Then suddenly the yelling escalated, too loud and riotous to keep track of any individual voices. In the chaos, Tony caught sight of a sign; _Randy's is too "randy" for our kids! _The new people filtering in had signs too, and Tony finally realized exactly what they'd walked in on. Randy's Donuts must have made some sort of pro-gay marriage statement recently, and this was the aftermath-the bible-thumping protest, more like-and they'd unwittingly walked right into it. Sitting up there eating donuts had probably made the protestors think they'd been mocking them or something. Well, shit. Tony glanced around, looking at a few more signs.

_Say yes to keeping marriage pure!_

_Did I vote on your marriage?_

_Men should be friends not spouses!_

_If being gay is a sin, at least hell will be fabulous!_

_Homosexual marriage is an act of TERRORISM!_

"Okay, that one's just stupid," Tony couldn't help but mutter.

"They're all stupid," Steve replied, his voice tight. Tony glanced over at him; the man's jaw was locked, and he was gritting his teeth with more than a touch of anger.

Some people might have assumed that because of Steve's undeniable cluelessness about certain aspects of the future that he might perhaps lean more towards the homophobic side, but one thing Tony had always known was that Steve Rogers was not a close-minded person. You _had _to be open-minded to accept and work with all the futuristic things that had flown Steve's way lately. He'd only just recently discovered technology, superheroes, and aliens, while learning to deal with the millions of ways the entire freaking world had changed around him.

Also, to be honest, Tony just couldn't really see Steve telling two people they didn't have the right to love each other.

"This is _ridiculous!_" Steve declared at last, his Captain America voice booming out loud enough to silence the crowd, "I can't _believe _this is even still an issue!"

Every last member of the large group turned to stare at them. Something caught Tony's eyes towards the back, and he mentally swore. Reporters; fucking vultures.

"Uh, Steve, maybe this isn't the time and pla-" Tony reached out to grab Steve's shoulder, stop him from saying anything too impassioned on camera that might bite him in the ass later.

"No, Tony, this is the perfect time and place," Steve abruptly shrugged off his touch, not even noticing the red lights clicking on in the back row, "Because this shouldn't even be _happening! _It's 2012, for God's sake! I went under in 1942 and homosexuality was a sin, a hushed word whispered in dark, locked rooms, I come out and they tell me we've won the war, Hitler is dead, there are race cars and microwaves and cellular phones and computers and TVs and _two people loving each other is still a sin?_"

"Steve, that's a good point, really, but-"

"And what about you, Mr. Stark, what's StarkIndustries view on homosexuality?" a reporter had edged her way to the front and was now shoving a microphone in his face.

"Fucking…" Tony swore; this was rapidly getting out of hand. Then, to the reporter, "Yeah, whatever, love is love, I really could not give less of a shit what people do in their free time. In fact, it'd be great if you all cared as little about my life as I care about yours. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

He took that opportunity to hook an arm around Steve's waist and take off, meaning to fly away in the direction of anywhere-but-there. Instead, two of the protestors snagged onto Tony's leg enough to drag him down a little, and Tony had to kill the repulsors or risk giving the protestors second-degree burns from the blast. When he and Steve hit the ground and went sprawling, he had to admit he wished he'd have just kept flying.

"Hey, keep your hands off him!" one of the supporters threatened, shoving the protestor back.

"Don't touch me, you fucking fag!" the protestor shoved him right back, and before Tony or Steve could do a thing, it was a full-blown riot.

Steve tried to help, stepping in to stop a few punches, but there were too many for them to handle on their own. Between the shouting, fist-fights and even screaming, the police were quick to arrive on the scene, followed not too far behind by the rest of the Avengers and Agent Coulson. They worked together to subdue the crowds, but even the police and the Avengers combined were having a hard time. Natasha and Clint bodily dragged people who were just yelling away, while Thor, Tony, and Steve focused on holding the more violent people back from each other. Bruce was debating with Coulson whether or not Hulking out might be just what they needed to get people's attention.

Phil's phone beeped then, and he held a finger up to Bruce, signaling that he needed a minute.

"What the ever-loving fuck is going on over there?"

Shit. Fury.

"Sorry sir, I can't quite hear you right now-"

"Stark and Rogers are _gay?"_

"Honestly, I don't have a clue, I haven't been able to make contact with either of them yet, I'm working on-"

"No, you're not working on anything Agent," Fury's voice was dead-serious, "I told you to keep those asshats in line, next thing I know I turn on my TV and I'm seeing Rogers flying around on Stark like he's a fucking pony, that one or both of them has started a violent, still-in-progress riot, and now my fucking TV has the banner 'Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, Champions of Gay Rights'! That is _not _what I define as in line, Agent! Fuck this, you're fired, you hear me? Fired!"

The line went dead.

Phil was frozen to the spot a moment, before a protestor reached out to hit him, clearly caught up in the violent frenzy. While Phil would usually simply deflect the blow-engaging civilians was highly unprofessional and hardly necessary-hearing the words 'you're fired' had snapped something.

The poor protestor never saw it coming.

Phil grabbed the protestor's fist, twisting it violently and flipping him onto the ground, where he delivered a punch that quite clearly broke the man's nose. The protestor's hands shot to his face and he howled in pain. Phil straightened, rolled his shoulders, and brushed his hands off on his jacket. Bruce watched with wide eyes, and there was a flash of cameras.

"Agent Coulson, are you for or against gay marriage?"

"You just punched one of the protestors, does this mean you support gay rights?"

"Are you in a homosexual relationship with Iron Man or Captain America?"

"Both of them, actually," Phil amused himself. The media would never stop trying to top themselves with inane stories. He was already fired, why not play a little with fire? "It tends to just dissolve into one large orgy when we're not out fighting crime. We're trying very hard to poison young children's minds, and homosexuality wasn't enough, so we felt the need to include polygamy."

Phil was rather proud of the dead silence that followed.

Then his phone rang, and he smiled, the picture of perfect politeness.

"Excuse me a moment."

"Alright, alright, you're hired again!"

"I'm sorry?"

"Christ, I fire you for a minute and you go apeshit on a civilian and tell the press the Avengers are having hedonistic orgies to poison kid's minds; I want your dangerous ass back on our side."

"Yes sir," If Phil wasn't as much of a master of his expressions as he was, he would have been grinning widely. As it was, he simply nodded.

"And Agent?"

"Yes?"

"If you ever feel the need to punch someone again, go for Stark."

"You know I will."

They hung up, and Phil assessed the scene instead. The fighting had increased, if anything, to the extent that Natasha and Clint had stopped dragging people away from the lot and had to join in the attempts to just get them to stop hitting each other. Then, it somehow managed to get worse.

Phil turned, and caught sight of Bruce, kneeling on the ground and clutching his head, his skin already starting to turn green. Steve and Thor were already starting to move people out more aggressively, while Clint and Tony rushed to Bruce. Natasha appeared at Phil's side, speaking quickly.

"Someone smashed one of their signs over the back of Banner's head, knocked him to the ground. Tony and Clint are trying to calm him down, but I think it's too late."

"Too many people here," Phil shook his head, trying to think, "Start evacuation by any means necessary. If he's Hulking out over pain and anger instead of by choice, we have a serious problem."

"Got it," Natasha nodded.

"Copy, working on it," Clint added over their com line, just as the Hulk fully transformed and let out a guttural roar.

"I have an idea, stand back," Tony jumped onto the radio channel, then flew up in the suit.

He used his repulsors to shoot at the crowd's ankles, forcing them to move closer to the street and further away from the Hulk. It didn't take long before the crowd had abandoned their problems with each other and focused on running, minus a few persistent media outlets that Clint and Natasha had to "escort" away with pointy objects. With Tony's assistance the parking lot emptied quickly, but Bruce was still big and green.

"Fired! Fuck it all, you're fired, all of you!" Fury was ranting over the line now, "Are you fucking kidding me?! There is a _Hulk _running around the _civilian population?!_ Fired, fired, _fired!" _

This time, Phil just blocked it out. He would be rehired again later or he wouldn't, but either way right now he was going to do his job. And, really, who could replace him? Sitwell? Please. Sitwell couldn't handle one, much less all, of the grown children that were the Avengers.

"Barton, Stark, talk to him, see if-" Phil began, but Tony cut him off.

"Already on it."

Iron Man was landing, joining Clint on the ground. At first the Hulk just growled and roared, making threatening movements towards them but never going through with it. Soon enough the Hulk began to shrink, either because he was relinquishing control or because Bruce was taking over again, in these situations it was never entirely clear. Tony and Clint exchanged a relieved glance, before Tony grinned at Bruce, making some off-hand remark about how the new StarkIndustries Hulk-proof pants seemed to be working out for him. Bruce just chuckled something back about being grateful for small miracles.

All but the stupidest/bravest civilians had abandoned the area (it was a fine line at times), and they and the reporters that remained were behind a line of police that had thankfully listened to Steve when he'd warned that shooting at the Hulk would do nothing but aggravate the situation.

"Tower. All of you. _Now," _Phil barked out.

The Avengers nodded, wisely saying nothing as they took off, Thor carrying Natasha and Clint, Tony carrying Steve and Bruce. They were well aware that walking out the normal way meant going past both the police and the press, and they'd all had quite enough of both this week.

"The Avengers," Phil began with a deep breath, "Are a response team, and respond they did. Our official statement is that they did not in any way begin or antagonize the situation, but simply worked with the police force to handle it. Dr. Banner's slip was unfortunate but kept entirely contained. If there are no charges, and there shouldn't be, I will be leaving."

The crowd parted, the police silent while the media scrambled for his attention, and Phil slipped through without a word, wondering when he had gotten so good at bullshitting his way through these situations.


	10. Chapter 10

"So, Steve accidentally spoke at a Gay Rights rally?" Pepper pressed her fingers to her nose, "And then when you tried to fly away…"

"Someone punched someone, and then they punched them back, and everyone just kind of started wailing on each other and then the police came, and you guys, and…yeah," Tony explained, waving wildly with his hands.

"Right. Because that's not vague."

"And it wasn't a rally, it was a protest _against _gay rights," Steve piped up.

"That is so not the issue here," Pepper sighed.

"But it _is _an issue!" Steve protested, standing now, "And the fact that it's still an issue after 70 years is absolutely ridiculous!"

"Steve, you're not going to find any argument with me, and I doubt you'll find it with anyone in this room," Pepper explained, "But the problem isn't that you're for gay rights, the problem is that you're a public figure. You can't just go running off about hot topic issues; the press have an absolute field day with it, and they'll twist it until you don't recognize your own words."

"But that's the point,I _am _a public figure. People will listen to what I have to say," Steve insisted, "I'm not going to just sit back and do nothing when I have a chance to do some real good."

"Admirable as that is, impassioned, heat-of-the-moment speeches aren't the way to go about it. I can schedule conferences for you if you like, but this," Pepper waved the StarkPad, handing it over to him to look through, "Can't keep happening. It's not personal, it's not even inexperience; Tony made a couple of bad calls today himself, and he's been doing this for years.

Steve skimmed the headlines, following Pepper's finger to a captioned picture. Tony was quoted as saying "I'm in a relationship, you ignorant jackass", directly under a picture of Tony with his arm around Steve's waist. The picture had been taken a moment before they'd flown off, which explained Tony's arm, but there was nothing in there about that. It just looked like Tony was asserting his relationship status. With Steve.

He scrolled further, and caught sight of another. This time, it was a picture of Tony with his hand on Steve's arm. It had been taken when Tony had been trying to stop Steve from saying anything too impassioned, and Steve had removed Tony's hand gruffly and spoken anyway. But the picture had been taken precisely when Steve's hand had closed over Tony's, before he'd removed it. It looked like Tony had his hand there for reassurance, and the caption was quoting Steve this time; "Tony, this is the perfect time and place."

Had it not been about him, he might have fallen for it himself; he handed the StarkPad back to Pepper, unwilling to see any more.

"The real issue," Coulson ran a frustrated hand through his hair, " Is that I used pretty much every string I had to keep that last scandal out of the news. This time around, I managed to bullshit my way through a plausible explanation of the riot, so you're clear of that, but you're going to have to go in front of the press yourselves to clear up…" Coulson waved a hand at the StarkPad Pepper was now looking through, articles of gay superheroes galore exploding across the internet, "_That. _And sooner rather than later, preferably."

"I do not understand," Thor questioned, "Is that wrong, here?"

"No, it's not," Steve insisted passionately, "Two people loving each other is _never_ wrong."

"Okay," Clint threw both hands up in the air, "We're all thinking it, I gotta ask; are _you_ gay, Cap? Cause you're surprisingly heated about this whole thing."

"If I love someone, it's because of who they are not because they have the right body parts," Steve retorted. Natasha tilted her head to the side in concession. It was true enough.

"Regardless of your orientation, let's try and focus on the actual problem at hand," Coulson rubbed the bridge of his nose, suddenly very, very tired, "The problem is that press have the wrong impression of the nature Tony and Steve's relationship, and it needs to be cleared up. The reporters are all still hanging around outside, aren't they?"

"With a story like this?" Pepper snorted, glancing through a particularly false article about Tony and Steve's supposed love affair, "You better believe they are."

"I hate reporters," Tony huffed, "Can't I just…I don't know, tweet it or something? 'Btw guys, totally not gay, kind of in a relationship with a woman and all'."

"Kind of?" Pepper raised a dangerous eyebrow.

"By which I mean deeply, madly in love with, obviously."

Steve glanced between Tony and Pepper. The words were right, with their usual playful, couple-y banter, but he could see Tony's mind at work. Tony was thinking, back to their conversation earlier, back to their talk about love and how you know and uncertainty. He could see it Tony's face; he still wasn't sure. But Steve could also see Tony weighing it out, clearly deciding that it was better to keep hoping it just fell into place.

"You have a twitter?" Clint asked Tony in surprise.

"You don't?"

"Actually," Natasha remarked with a snort, "He can't."

"Ah, yes," Coulson winced in memory.

Tony raised an eyebrow, and Clint scowled.

"'Tweet tweet motherfucker'," Natasha intoned dryly, answering the obvious question.

"He tweeted it every ten minutes or so at someone, and after he did it to Fury a couple times, Fury had him blocked from all servers," Coulson explained further.

"Aw, fuck you guys. That was funny," Clint huffed, crossing his arms.

"_The point," _Pepper sighed, "Is that you two need to get out there and clear this up, the sooner the better."

"How about I talk, Captain? Better we not get you too riled up," Tony clapped Steve on the shoulder as he stood.

"Perhaps," Steve nodded his assent, letting Tony take the lead on this one.

"Take this."

Pepper passed Tony the StarkPad she'd been scribbling on, and Tony glanced through the couple of points Pepper had recommended he make. He nodded, then walked out to the front gates. Tony waved his hands for silence, and after a moment, the large gathering of reporters complied.

"Alright, you, toupee boy. Go," Tony waved a hand at a middle-aged reporter who promptly flushed bright red.

"It's, it's not, uh…okay, uh, you claimed earlier that StarkIndustries had no problems with the homosexuals, is that true?"

"StarkIndustries' official position," Tony glanced down at the StarkPad in his hands, rattling off the information, "Is that we have absolutely no issues with the sexual orientation of our employees, customers, or anyone else. If our employees start a relationship with someone within the company or change their marital status, regardless of the gender of either party, they fill out a form and receive the same benefits as everyone else. In summation, and I know this is a huge surprise, backwards priorities and all, but we're more concerned with how hard you're working than who you're screwing."

Watching the live security feed JARVIS was providing, Pepper sighed; Tony was starting to get a bit creative with the lines she'd provided. Not by any means unusual, but she'd hoped he might have recognized the seriousness of the situation for once. Of course, she had vastly overestimated his self-censoring abilities.

"Also, I'd like to add for the record that Steve, myself, and the rest of the Avengers share the views of StarkIndustries; as long as you're not fucking on our lawn, and we don't give a shit."

"For the love of god, Tony, stop improvising…" Pepper groaned.

"Do you have any response for Hammer Industries statement?"

"Depends on their statement," Tony only raised a challenging eyebrow, but over the video feed Steve could see the look in Tony's eyes; this was going to go south very quickly.

"According to CEO Justin Hammer, it should be, 'Adam and Eve, not Tony and Steve'," the reporter relayed, clearly gleeful about being the first to throw the little quote in Tony's face, thinking it would spark some fit of "we are who we are, let us be" rage.

Instead, Tony practically bust a gut laughing.

"Sorry, sorry, I just…had a momentary hallucination of Steve running around with flowing blonde hair and leaves on his breasts, I apologize," back in the Tower, Steve turned a particularly bright shade of red and put his face in his hands as Tony continued, "Uh, what, a response? I'm sorry, am I supposed to be surprised that Justin Hammer is a close-minded homophobe? Petty minds think petty thoughts. Nothing new."

"Are the rumors true?"

"Which rumors?" Tony shrugged with a playful grin, "Recently I've heard that Natasha is a time-travelling robot from the future sent to destroy us all, that Coulson really did die and his twin brother secretly replaced him, and that we have homosexual, hedonistic orgies to poison the minds of children. The answers are: entirely possible but unconfirmed, no because no one tazes me like he does and I would know in an instant, and you'll have to ask Coulson about the orgy one, because if that's true, they've been leaving me out and we're going to have to have a serious talk about that."

That caught the reporters off guard long enough for Tony to take a breath. Back in the mansion, Natasha smirked, Coulson threw his hands in the air in the international sign of surrender, and Pepper just shook her head. While Tony had done worse, he clearly wasn't taking this seriously. Then, of course, the reporters had to plunge right back in.

"What about Captain America?"

"You'll have to be more specific," Tony played it off, blatantly faking innocence to what they wanted to know, still having his fun with the anxious crowd, "My rumor repertoire on Steve is pretty expansive too…yes, he's really from the 40's-frankly he has no other excuse for still not knowing how to work the remote-yes, he really is as wholesome as the ads on TV, and no, I have absolutely no idea if the serum enhanced _everything _everything."

Turned out Steve _could _get redder.

"Can you define your relationship with Captain America?"

"Are you asking me to DTR?" Tony was now doing his best to impersonate a teenage girl, "Cause, I'm not sure if I'm, y'know, _ready."_

"Look," one of the more impatient reporters snapped, "Are we going to get a straight answer from you?"

"You want a straight answer? Here's your straight answer: Captain America is the leader of the Avengers. I have always and will always trust him to lead the team, make the right call, and save the world. He hasn't let me down yet. But that's not what you meant, is it? You _meant _to ask me about Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers is my best friend; he's been through hell and back and he's still the greatest man I know. I trust Captain America in the heat of battle, but it's Steve Rogers I trust with my life. Lucky for me, they're the same person. Sparknotes version? We're best friends, I'm not screwing him, and no one living under my roof is homophobic so I suggest you stop digging for it before you piss another one of us off."

With that, Tony turned on his heel and entered the Tower, shutting the door quite definitively behind him.

Eventually, the media frenzy did die out, and StarkIndustries legal department was able to "convince" all reputable publications to print both a retraction and, in the extreme cases, and apology/clarification. Within a week, America came to the somewhat regretful conclusion that, no, the two hottest men in America were not in fact having relations.

By this point, Tony and Steve found it hilarious.

They teased the media for a while after that; little things, mostly just tiny nudges of "hey, remember when you idiots thought we were screwing?" For example, not long after the press frenzy, Tony took a sharpie to Steve's suit and drew the arc reactor's inverted triangle sign over the star on Steve's chest. Steve, of course, retaliated by drawing little wings on Tony's helmet and a star around the arc reactor. Most of their joking was all fun and games, but then there was That One Time, and their teasing of the press came to a screeching halt.

For the record, That One Time was actually Steve's fault.

He blamed Tony, of course, as he always did, but they both knew it had been his idea. While searching for Howard's old files on the serum as Tony had given him permission to, Steve had found almost a dozen boxes filled to the brim with Captain America gear. At first, he'd simply thought Howard had been rather sentimental; on second glance, he was pretty sure the Captain America footie pajamas had never belonged to Howard.

The first few boxes were clearly kid's gear–bed sheets, figurines, Halloween costumes, even a couple of plastic shields. After that, it became pretty clear these boxes had been packed recently, and they were of more than just Captain America; they were Avengers gear of all kinds. Clothes, collectibles, and an expansive trading card collection that rivaled Agent Coulson's. He plucked a couple Iron Man hoodies from the box, and, judgmental news reports still swirling in his mind, he decided that sometimes the press needed a little messing with.

So he convinced Tony-not that it had taken much to get Tony on board with any plan that involved mocking the press' slip-up about their not-so-sexual relationship-to wear Captain America gear while he himself donned Iron Man gear. After only their second outing, Pepper was ringing up Tony, telling him to take that god awful sweatshirt off before she told the press he wet the bed until he twelve.

Tony hadn't wasted much time shedding the sweatshirt.

When they'd gotten back to the Tower, Pepper had absolutely _reamed _him. They'd disappeared to their suite upstairs, and she'd yelled at him for a good long while about not antagonizing the god damn press and how it may be all fun and games for him but she was the one dealing with the fallout and the stock shifts because of his behavior and _Jesus _Tony, can't you ever consider how I feel in all this?

Because though she didn't say it out loud, all Pepper could think of were all the times he'd missed their dates lately, or forgotten to invite her out with the group, or held hands with Steve to screw with reporters and rarely, if ever, mentioned that, hey, _he had a girlfriend. _It was always, "I'm not gay", or "we're not screwing", never "I'm in love with my girlfriend Pepper Potts".

Tony being Tony, he simply heard that she was feeling overwhelmed about the press coverage. So Tony did his best to assure her that he would lay off the press taunts, Pepper told herself she was over-reacting anyway, and they both let the whole thing blow over. Tony retreated to his workshop then, something about the arc reactor and replacements before slinking off.

Tony was in the middle of doing just that when Steve walked into the workshop.

He'd only come to deliver a sandwich-seeing as Tony had, as per usual, neglected to eat that day-when he caught sight of Tony. He had his shirt off and was leaning back in his desk chair, fingers finding purchase on the arc reactor and yanking. He plucked out the shining life source and rolled it over in his fingertips to prod at it. Steve was across the room in a second, dropping the sandwich with a clatter on Tony's desk, ready to snatch the reactor from him and slam it back into his chest if he had to, but Tony's confusion stopped him.

"Uh…hey there. Can I help you?" Tony was shifting now, clearly trying to hide his chest from view, "Sorry, I know it's an ugly mess, let me just replace this and I'll put my shirt back on."

Steve was silent, trying to erase the panic and worry of the last thirty seconds from his mind. Tony wasn't attempting suicide; why would he? Though Tony had no reason to commit suicide, Steve had seen the arc reactor being removed, and his mind had just…made the jump. It was silly and irrational and Steve took a very long, very deep breath.

Tony replaced the core then plugged it back in, and the reactor flickered back to life. Tony reached for his shirt then, but before he could get it Steve found himself reaching out entirely on impulse. His hand brushed the reactor, casting shadows over the soft blue light. Images of the ocean, of waves, of a bright blue star burned into his mind. His fingertips traced the edges of the metal, moving out to ghost across the raised scar tissue. Tony's breath hitched; Steve wasn't sure if it was because the skin itself was sensitive or because Tony was sensitive about it. Either way, it brought him back to reality. He dropped his hand.

"There's nothing ugly about it, Tony," Steve shook his head before retreating out of the workshop to leave Tony in peace.

Tony spent the rest of the night there, making improvements to the latest Iron Man model distractedly, trying to forget the feeling of Steve's fingers tracing over his skin. He tried to think of Pepper, who was just a few floors up, and yet millions of miles away. He tried to think of the last time she had touched him like that anywhere, much less the single ugliest, messiest part of him. Steve had looked at it, had touched the reactor and the skin around it like…like he'd been in awe. Tony had only ever seen Pepper flinch. He cut himself on his machinery then, and he swore violently about a lot more than the pain in his hand.

So what if Tony slept in the lab that night? Entirely coincidence. It was happening more often than not anyway, not that anyone needed to know that.

And if Steve came down in the middle of the night and tucked a blanket over the exhausted man, well, no one needed to know that either.


	11. Chapter 11

When Tony had left that morning, Pepper hadn't kissed him. She'd meant to, maybe, but for some reason she just hadn't. Maybe it was the way they'd bickered, even more tension in their voices than usual, something she hadn't thought possible at this point.

He'd come up to their room that morning for a shower, and right after he'd finished getting dressed the alarms had gone off, signaling an Avenger emergency. He'd called the suit, and as it had attached itself to him, she'd accidentally commented out loud. She'd meant to keep it to herself, something about _not again_, and Tony had insisted on knowing what she meant by it.

_I'm sorry, should I tell Loki or Dr. Doom or whoever's up their usual shittery that they should destroy New York some other time?_

_Don't be so sarcastic. I didn't mean it like that._

_What did you mean then?_

_I just...it's this whole superhero business, it just seems to get worse every time you go. It makes me nervous, that's all._

_This 'superhero business'? Pepper, this is who I am._

_What about Tony?_

_What about me?_

_You're not just Iron Man, you know._

_What I am supposed to do, hand off the suit to some hot-rod teenager just because he's younger than me, fitter than me?_

_For god's sake, this isn't about your age, I just-_

_Why, then? Why do you always give me that, that look, the one you're wearing right now, like I shouldn't be going? This is the only thing I've ever done right, and you're looking at me like I'm making a mistake. This is who I am, Pepper. I am the suit, the suit is me._

_That's not the way it should be, Tony._

_You don't think I'm 'hero material', is that it?_

_Of course not, I-!_

_I know I'm not a damn saint and I'm actually pretty fucked up, but I'm the best they're gonna get because the suit is _mine, _Pepper, and it always will be. I am Iron Man, no one else._

He'd flown off then, partially because the alarm had grown more insistent and mostly because he'd wanted to abandon the conversation. She found herself remembering the very first time she'd watched him fly off, and realized that the amount of worry buried in her heart hadn't lightened at all.

* * *

It was Loki, back to his old tricks, leading a battalion of flying alien robots against the city. It wasn't something to ignore, obviously, but it wasn't exactly anything new or particularly stressful. The Avengers were pretty well synced as a team by this point, so it was obvious to Steve when Tony took a pretty hard blow that he could have easily avoided it if he had been paying attention.

"What's distracting you?" Steve asked over the com. He was up high, working on eliminating a group up on a building while Tony worked in the skies.

"Nothing," Tony brushed him off curtly, clearly tense. Steve switched the link to a private channel, and prodded him again.

"Tony."

"It's nothing Cap. Trouble in paradise, is all."

"Didn't sound like paradise last time we talked."

"Maybe not," Tony conceded, rolling in the air to dodge incoming blasts before shooting off a couple rounds of his own, effectively taking them down, "But it's what I've got."

Steve shook his head, evading one of the bots before taking it's head off with his shield, "You deserve more than that, you know."

"Hardly," Tony snorted, then, before Steve could reply, their com line was over-ridden and returned to the group setting by Coulson, who had eyes in the sky.

"Steve, on your lef-"

But Steve could didn't have time to defend himself before the incoming bot caught him off-guard, sending him flying off the edge of the building. Tony was there in a flash, scooping Steve up in his arms long before the soldier had time to worry.

"You alright there, Captain?"

"Sure am. Nice catch."

"Nah, I bet you say that to all the dames."

"Oh please, you know you're special."

"Not again..." Clint groaned over the com.

"This is not one of your parties, Stark, cut the banter," Coulson interrupted, "You too, Captain. We've got incoming."

Loki had broken free of his fight with Thor, and was now waving his hands, a dark energy glowing around them.

"I fucking hate magic," Tony growled, not that it was news to anyone.

Loki projected the energy onto six of his bots, and they immediately took off, clearly aiming for the Avengers. The first charged into the Hulk, and the Hulk shuddered as the dark energy washed over him. He shook it off, however, clearly immune, and demolished the unfortunate bot with one large fist. Three more possessed bot went after Natasha, Thor, and Clint, but Barton shot them all down before they could reach their targets. He didn't have time to catch the last two though.

The possessed bots were headed straight for Steve and Tony, so Tony released Steve, and shot off a couple repulsor blasts. He destroyed one and winged the other, but the one with minimal damage managed to project the energy onto Steve before Steve's shield could finish it off. A split second the shield went smashing through the bot, but the spell was already cast.

Steve, super strong but not magic-immune as the Hulk had proven to be on more than one occasion, sank down and shook his head as if to free his mind of something. Loki had disappeared, but the Avengers still had a number of bots to take care of before the fight could be considered over. Thor and Tony were the only ones unoccupied, and Tony knelt at Steve's side while Thor landed.

"Hey, c'mon buddy, it's okay, you can fight it," Tony clasped a hand on Steve's shoulder, but Steve shook him off roughly.

Tony moved forward to catch his arm again, but Thor quickly pulled him back.

"Leave him be for the moment, Man of Iron. Loki is on the run again, his spells are of no lasting consequence."

"Okay, well, forgive me if I'm not overly inclined to be comforted by that," Tony snapped, his eyes darting back to Steve, who was now shaking almost violently, "Last time we got hit by your brother's weird energy junk, I had a different _set _of junk, if you catch my drift."

"I do not believe I have caught the drift of which you speak."

"Never mind," Tony sighed, knowing his innuendo's were wasted on Thor, "Do you know what he's done?"

"I believe he has cast a nightmare curse," Thor examined Steve from a distance, who looked at them with blank, unseeing eyes as his breathing intensified, "It is not the worst he has to offer, nor is it of permanence."

"Well, the name 'nightmare curse' doesn't make it sound like fun and games, either," Clint came in over the com, "What exactly is going on? I can see Cap shaking like a leaf from up here."

"It does as it says. It casts a nightmare upon it's victims, wraps them up in it like any other bad dream. What the good Captain finds most heinous, he is now experiencing. But when it ends he will wake, and he will be in good health," Thor explained. Then his voice turned stern as he addressed Tony, who had made another move towards Steve again, "Man of Iron, I have warned you, do not touch him in this state."

"But he's-!"

"If you touch him, he will attack you," Thor stated in no uncertain terms, "He knows not who you are, only that if you are touching him you are a part of his nightmare."

"How long?" Tony swallowed, his eyes never leaving Steve's tortured face.

"I know not. We isolate our victims until they recover, usually within a few days-"

"A few _days?_" Tony spun away from Thor, stalking over to where Steve was still struggling.

The idea that Steve would be tortured by his own mind for days, when the man had already lived through enough nightmares to last a lifetime, was absolutely reprehensible to Tony. He refused to let that happen.

"Steve?" Tony came up behind Steve and lightly put a hand on his shoulder.

And, okay, to be fair, maybe after Thor's warnings Tony shouldn't have snuck up on the guy.

Steve reacted instantly, flipping Tony over, brutally slamming him into the pavement. He aimed a super-strong fist at Tony's chest, but Tony managed to collect himself and dodge that one. He rolled away for a brief moment before going back into Steve's space, taking him by the shoulders from the front this time.

"Steve, listen to me, it's Tony. Tony, okay? You remember?" Tony insisted, shaking the soldier for good measure.

There was a flicker, just a flash, and Steve's voice broke.

"Liar."

Then his eyes were blank again as he socked Tony in the gut, sending him flying across the street and into a building. The suit protected him from most damage, but Steve's strength still left him winded. The others were landing now, but they stayed back with Thor.

"For fuck's sake," Tony huffed, gasping for air as he hauled himself up out of the rubble.

"It is as I said, he is in no state to be reasoned with," Thor reminded.

"Stark, pull back," Coulson ordered over the com, "We'll isolate him like Thor suggested, keep him safe until-"

"No. I'm not going to just sit back and let him torture himself for who knows how long, until he runs out of nightmare fuel, or however it works. Magic is fickle and weird, I'm sure he can be snapped out of it," Tony shook his head as he disengaged the helmet lock, yanking it off and tossing it the side, "He just didn't recognize me. I'm trying again."

He engaged the repulsors, flying back over to Steve and making eye contact before he went anywhere near touching distance. A super-soldier blow to his exposed head wouldn't be pretty for anyone. Steve eyed him warily, and they circled each other.

"Steve," Tony spoke calmly, comfortingly, "I'm Tony, your friend. Just talk to me buddy, what's going on in that head of yours?"

Steve blinked twice, another flicker fighting it's way through.

"You're lying," he repeated, his voice betrayed and insulted. Though he made no move to attack, his fists clenched tightly, "You're_ lying to me_."

"I'm not lying," Tony shook his head, holding his hands up in the universal sign of surrender, "I'm right here. It's Tony, you know me. Just talk to me."

"This isn't true," Steve shook his head, clearly as confused as he was in pain, "This is a lie, a hallucination-"

"No lies," Tony assured, and Steve's eyes flashed again.

"_I saw you die," _Steve snapped, before covering his face with his hands and shaking his head, rambling off about _no _and _it's a lie _and _this is wrong wrong wrong. _Tony froze a moment, but recovered.

"I'm alive, Steve," he kept his voice steady, quiet but strong, "I promise you, I'm real and I'm alive and I'm not going anywhere."

Steve closed his eyes, and all he could see was Tony. Tony doing something stupidly heroic, shoving Steve out of the way as he had done countless times, this time getting a hole blasted through the chest for his trouble. Tony collapsing to the ground, beaten and bruised, a bloody, ghostly smile on his lips even as the light faded from his eyes, saying he'd do it all again. One of hundreds of visions, hundreds of times, and in all them, Tony was a hero; a stupid, bleeding, dying hero. In all of them, Tony was dead dead _dead._

And then Tony, blinking, breathing, _living_ Tony, was grasping him by the shoulders, holding him up as his knees gave out. Steve clung to him in an inescapable hug, needing to feel every very alive inch of his best friend. Tony almost couldn't breathe, but he didn't do a thing except wrap his arms around Steve in return.

Once Steve's panicked breathing slowed and his heart stopped racing, he pulled away but kept his hands on Tony's shoulders. He leaned in until their foreheads touched and they were just lookingat each other. Steve took in the sight of Tony's face, and it just took Steve's breath away that Tony was alive and okay and he was just so, _so fucking relieved_. Steve took another moment, taking in Tony's face, committing the face he thought he'd never see again to memory before he hugged Tony to him again, a little looser so that Tony could breathe.

"Glad you have you back, Steve."

Steve didn't have the words to express how he felt, so he stayed silent and hugged Tony closer.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Tony was fixing the damage Steve had done to Iron Man's chestplate while Steve sketched intently. It wasn't an unusual occurrence for them to share the workshop, in fact it happened more often than not, but Steve's grim silence was both unusual and worrying. At last, Tony finished the first part of his repairs, and he wheeled his chair over to where Steve was.

"Okay, do we need to talk?"

Steve just looked up at him, distress written in the lines across his face, and Tony could read it like a Computers for Dummies manual.

"Steve, I'm alive, and I intend to remain so for as long as possible. We live dangerous lives, I'm not saying it's not a possibility, but it's a possibility we all share. I'm not going anywhere unless they drag me kicking and screaming. And even then, they'll probably get so sick of me they'll give up and return me," Tony joked, trying to prod a smile out of the so-far-eerily-silent Steve. Nothing, "Okay, seriously. I've been trying to cheer you up all day and you're still moping. I'm not going anywhere, Steve, really."

Steve was quiet a moment, debating something, then he turned his sketchpad around so that Tony could see. It was just a rough sketch, but it was very clearly of Tony. He was on the ground in the Iron Man suit, with the faceplate ripped off and what looked to be a clean hole in his chest where the arc reactor should have been. His face was beaten dark and purple and bruised, there was blood on his lips, and his eyes were closed in very final, very not-sleeping way. It may have just been a sketch, but Steve's train of thought was all too clear. Tony softened, but before he could speak, Steve did.

"Tony...we have to talk about the fact that you keep putting yourself in harms way. I mean, God, you rode a missile into outer space with the intention of _dying_ less than a week after I met you, and you haven't stopped pulling stunts like it since. It always works out for the best, but...someday it might not. And I know rationally that what I saw today was just a nightmare, but..." Steve shifted, clearly uncomfortable, "It could have happened. It was just so...clear. It was something I know you would do, and I just..."

Tony paused, the look on Steve's face drawing a serious response.

"I don't know exactly what you saw. But from what you've said, it probably is something I would do. Because if we're going off the numbers, off pure logic, Captain America is more important to the team than Iron Man, plain and simple," there's a pause then, but Tony finished speaking before Steve could interrupt, "And if we're going off what matters, I value your life more than mine. I may have the moral integrity of a stapler, but I know the right thing to do when I see it. I learned from the best, you know."

Tony smiled at Steve then, just a small quirk of the lips; not a there's-cameras-around pose, not a snarky-comment-smirk, not a I'm-gonna-kick-some-ass grin. It's Tony's rare, honest, _real _smile.

And Steve loved it.

It did something to him. Just like seeing Tony getting shot through was emotional in the worst kind of way, that it just about tore his heart out, seeing Tony smile, _really _smile, was emotional in the best kind of way, the perfect opposite. It did warm, pleasantly fuzzy things to his stomach, and he couldn't help himself.

"I would lose it without you, you know," Steve shook his head, trying not to dwell too much on the nightmare, trying to keep himself in the moment while he spoke, "You ground me, Tony. You don't just blindly accept my word or my ideas as right just because I'm 'Captain America', you challenge me to think about my opinions, about _why_ what I'm saying or doing is right, because you know I'm Steve Rogers too; I'm a person, and I make mistakes. You were the first one treat me like a real _person_, and if you died out there, Tony...I...seeing you on the ground, motionless, it just..."

He was struggling for what to say, how to even begin to describe what it felt like to watch the most important person in your life _die _in front of you-

"Did it break your heart?"

It was an odd question, and perhaps because of the strangeness Steve answered truthfully.

"Yes."

"Good."

"Tony, how can you say-"

"Because broken can be fixed," Tony didn't let him speak, just plowed through his words with a resolute certainty, conviction in every word, "Broken can be pieced back together, glued and taped and welded and maybe not perfect, but good enough. Steve, if I had to _watch you die_, if I thought there was even a chance that you were dead, I would shatter, do you understand that? I would shatter into so many microscopic pieces that there isn't a soul alive that would be able to help me. I'm telling you this, because I don't want you to blame yourself _when_ I jump in front of you. Because I _will _do it, any time I'm given the chance. You matter more to me, Steve; there's nothing you can say or do that's going to change that."

There isn't even a moment's pause before Steve fixed him with a stare.

"Then you'll have to fight me for it, because I'll be right there doing the same for you."

Tony smiled then, a challenging little quirk.

"Bring it on, Cap."


	12. Chapter 12

Just as Pepper finished work, her phone rang with Tony's number. Instantly, all her thoughts from earlier that morning came racing back. They had argued, he'd taken off, and when Tony hadn't called her after the fight, Pepper had thought it best to give him space. She knew he'd survived, of course, because Coulson would had called her otherwise. So she hadn't called him and he hadn't called her, and she'd found it surprisingly easy to bury herself in work and forget about it entirely.

But now he was calling.

She picked up, almost unsure what to say. Luckily for her, Tony had never been a man short on words.

"There's this pizza place a couple blocks away, you in?"

"Yes," Pepper found herself nodding happily, though Tony couldn't see, "Yes, of course. I'd love to."

It had been weeks, possibly months since they'd last gone out on a date-alone, that is. They'd been on a few dates, technically speaking, but for some reason Pepper couldn't begin to fathom, Steve always seemed to be present. And it wasn't that she didn't like Steve; of _course _she liked Steve. How could you not? It was just that he seemed to be present on these sorts of things incredibly often. Was that weird? Pepper wasn't sure what to make of it. Steve seemed perfectly comfortable, though in the 40's dates tended to lean towards group affairs anyway so perhaps he didn't realize that one on one was kind of the style now. Tony, however, had no excuse for seeming to not comprehend the notion that Pepper might want an alone date with him once a decade.

So though a pizza date wasn't exactly fancy, Pepper was more than willing to take it. In fact, maybe the fact that it was a relaxed, comfortable sort of date said something for their relationship. Maybe they were finally on their way to a good place. So she said yes and he met her in the office, walked her out and down to where Happy was waiting. They were making comfortable small talk and Tony had his arm around her shoulder, when he opened his big mouth.

"I know it's not high-class or anything, but I was there with Steve the other day and he couldn't get enough of the stuff. He insisted that if we were going out to eat again tonight, we had to go back."

Pepper all but froze, because her Steve alarm was going off the charts.

Sure enough, big blonde and handsome was in the car. Almost instantly, Pepper somehow managed to feel like a third wheel. Tony and Steve were chattering away, something about an event they'd been to recently and the apparently overly enthusiastic guy that had given the opening speech. Tony debated he'd been high on crack, Steve debated he was just excited about charity, and Pepper debated if climbing out of the window while on the freeway would kill or only maim her.

A few moments later, something hit the roof of the car, and Happy slammed on the breaks. Luckily they had already pulled off the freeway, and Happy pulled the car to a stop while Clint opened the door and hopped in.

"What the fuck, did you just _land_ _on my car?_" Tony demanded, eyes wide.

"Well, yeah," Clint rolled his eyes, as if it was obvious, "You snuck out without telling me you were going to Giovanni's."

"One might assume that was because you weren't invited," Tony replied huffily.

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you going to have some sort of orgy in here with Pep and Captain Keep-It-In-Your-Spandex over there?" Clint shot back sarcastically, "Come on, it's Giovanni's, you can't leave me!"

Suddenly, Natasha poked her head in from the passenger seat, "Clint, stop whining and just be grateful I gave you directions."

Tony and Steve both shot up straight in their seats, eyes wide.

"What the _fuck-"_

"Where did you _come from-"_

"I was in the car before you two were," Natasha replied smugly before turning back around in her seat.

They all continued arguing, and Pepper just let her head fall into her hands, because this was now officially the 10th not-date in a row she had been on with Tony and by proxy Steve in the past month alone and now there was even _more _people and it was beginning to feel like maybe Tony was pulling away in his own way. And even if he wasn't...Pepper glanced around at the chaos of the backseat. Well, maybe this just wasn't where she belonged in the first place. Tony's life had been changed irrevocably by the Avengers. He had gained friends, real friends, for the first time in his life. They had brought life to an empty house, brought out a certain color and depth to Tony that hadn't previously been paid attention to. His humor was lighter, he was eating better, and out of the workshop far, far more often if only because they had given him something to be a part of, something to come home to.

Pepper loved Tony. She did now, and she had for a very long time. She had never really questioned that Tony meant it when he said he felt the same, but certain things were becoming clearer to her lately. She had said I love you first, which, while not strange in and of itself, his response had been. _I love you too, of course. _At the time she'd loved the way he had said it, as if it was a complete given; in retrospect, she could hear the way it was less of an assurance to her and more to himself. As if he was trying to remind himself that of course he loved her, because that was what made sense.

Even if it wasn't what he felt.

And it hurt, because she could see it now, all the thought and work and effort he put into their relationship. It wasn't love or desire or even lust, but an attempt to convince himself of it's reality. He wasn't working to show her he loved her; he was working to show _himself _he loved her. When it was just them, he had time to himself. He had time to regroup and remind himself of how he should think and act. With the Avengers living with them now, there were always people drawing Tony out of his press-perfected shell, people to talk to and watch movies with and run off and save the world with and it didn't leave Tony time to remind himself how he should be acting around Pepper.

So they'd fallen out in these past few months. Distance had grown between them and they talked less about themselves and their relationship and more about what they used to, the things their real relationship had been based on, work and friendship. Romanticism was rare, and that should have tipped her off. Then again, he was always so busy; she'd convinced herself of that, hadn't she? He was so busy and heroic and stressed that he just didn't have the time he used to.

But then, he always had time for Steve, didn't he?

* * *

She told herself after that night not to give up so easily, to give Tony a chance, but it was beginning to feel pointless. Any time she tried to get him alone, Tony always somehow looped in something about how Steve would love that, how he kept blabbing about it, how Tony would just go grab him and then they'd go. She managed to corner him into an actual date all of once, and Tony spent the entire time texting under the table. He had of course insisted that _no he wasn't texting anyone_ and _why're you bringing up Steve?_ and _of course I'm paying attention to you baby_…but then he'd cracked a grin at his glowing crotch and Pepper had given up entirely.

She couldn't seem to get him alone at the Tower, either; when he wasn't with the team for meals, games, or movies, he and Steve were down in the workshop together, Tony fiddling with his toys and Steve sketching or reading while they yakked away. Sometimes they worked together on Steve's motorcycle or Tony's cars, coming up for air hours later, greasy and exhausted and laughing like hell. Finally, she went down to the workshop, thinking maybe a low cut top and some shorts could convince Tony to come upstairs. Steve was there, of course, at what was clearly his table, reading one of the books Tony had leant him. Tony was flipping through the holoscreens while asking Steve what he wanted for dinner, and Steve lazily flicked a page before saying something about maybe Thai.

Suddenly, Pepper felt jealous. It was silly and irrational, of course, but she wanted that. They were so at ease with each other, so comfortable …even at her and Tony's best, their relationship had never quite felt like that. And then she felt slightly ashamed, because she couldn't believe she was actually _jealous _of the one close friend Tony had. He never saw Rhodes anymore, and of course the other Avengers were close to him too, but they weren't that close. Tony needed a friend like Steve, he always had, and now he finally had one. So Pepper walked away without saying a word.

She went upstairs and tried to get some work done at the kitchen table. She was there for a while, long enough that at one point Steve walked through, saying something about an Avengers meeting, be back later. She'd nodded, then gone back to analyzing the recent PR feedback. She ended up coming across a picture of the Avengers out to dinner. Her first thought was, okay, it was a press thing, but then she caught sight of Coulson and Jane and even Darcy, and she had to wonder yet again why Tony hadn't asked her along. She dismissed the thought, because she could have easily been busy or, even more likely, Tony himself had probably been dragged kicking and screaming. Then she _really _looked at the photo, and it sure didn't look he was being forced to be there.

It looked like...well, it looked like he was enjoying himself. Not Tony-Stark-party-face enjoying himself either, but _actually _enjoying himself. He was looking at Steve in the picture and Steve was looking back at him and they were just...off in their own world, Steve with a quirked little smile like he'd told a joke or something, and Tony was just..._beaming_, like it was the greatest joke he'd ever heard and wasn't Steve just wonderful?

Pepper didn't know how to feel about that, because she had never, ever seen Tony look at her like that.

A phone buzzed then, over on the counter, and Pepper only had to glance to see it was Tony's. That was strange in and of itself, because when was Tony without his phone? She picked it up and glanced at the screen. It said 'Capsicle', and the photo ID was of Steve asleep and drooling in a bed. A bed that had the same color sheets as theirs.

_What the fuck?_

Before she could get too crazy, she told herself to calm down. Seriously. Weird as the picture was, _all _the beds had the same sheets as theirs, and Pepper was quite sure polite-as-heck Steve Rogers wouldn't have requested different sheets. So it was probably taken in Steve's bed. Probably.

"JARVIS? Can you tell me where this picture was taken?"

"I believe that was taken from Captain Rogers' bedroom. Sir and Captain Rogers have engaged in attempting to outdo each other in attaining the most embarrassing pictures for photo identification as they can, Miss Potts."

She just hmm'ed, accepting the answer, but something still didn't sit quite right about the whole thing.

She ignored the call and went down to the lab. Since Steve wasn't there and he was calling Tony, Tony was probably alone at last; he was. He sat alone in the lab as old Captain America footage and press pictures and home videos popped on the holoscreens, and he would watch each for a moment before sliding certain pieces to the left, others to the right. As innocent an activity as this was, the way he was looking at the screens made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. This felt private, personal, and she had to wonder if that just about summed up how their entire relationship felt lately; like she was just _there_, constantly walking in where she didn't belong.

"Tony?

"Hmm? Oh, shit, Steve, don't look, I was just-"

He turned, and saw her.

His face lit up. He rushed over, kissed her eagerly, then took her by the hand to show her the videos. He explained the project he'd been doing for his friend, then pulled her into his arms. Told her that it could, of course, wait, because she was here, and she was Pepper, and he was crazy about her.

If that had happened, maybe things would have been different. Maybe the doubts would have faded, soothed away like the silly, irrational things they were. At least, they should have been irrational. But instead Tony turned, and upon seeing her, simply said "oh". It wasn't a disappointed or unhappy oh; if anything, it was simply a surprised oh. But it wasn't enough. So instead of being rational, instead of silencing the nagging questions in her mind, she blurted out the first jealous, petty thought that came to her tongue.

"Where's the ever-present Steve?"

She knew the answer. She'd known the answer when she came down; it was _why _she'd come down. And that wasn't right. Because she liked Steve just fine. At least, that's what she told herself because, rationally, she _should _like Steve just fine. Not just because he was a living legend and national hero, either. Steve Rogers was perfectly polite, devastatingly good-looking, rather charming and an altogether good influence on her notoriously incorrigible boyfriend. He was a real friend to a man who barely understood the concept. There was nothing _not _to like, she told herself.

_Except that he might be stealing your boyfriend._

Except he _wasn't, _of course. He was an old-fashioned 1940's soldier who probably couldn't even say the word sex out loud; she couldn't imagine him being comfortable enough to try anything. Not that she could _ever _imagine wholesome, courteous, do-gooder Steve Rogers stealing anyone's boyfriend or girlfriend anyway. So though she was quick to pretend he was, Steve Rogers was not the problem. The problem was the way Tony looked at Steve, like he was the sun and Tony was the earth, orbiting around his every movement. The problem was the way Tony sat with Steve, always right next to him, leaning into him, usually falling asleep on him by the end of movie night. The problem was the way Tony talked to Steve, always angled towards him, even leaning in and touching his shoulder or his arm, talking animatedly and with purpose like he was sharing the secrets of the universe.

The problem was Tony.

"Hmm? Oh, some SHIELD thing. Why're you looking for the Capsicle?"

"Tony..."

"What's wrong, Pep?" the words were right but the emotion was off; the concern was there, but it was like a projection.

And just like that, Pepper understood.

The pieces whirred and clicked together in her mind; Tony knew Pepper was acting strange and he knew he _should_ be concerned, so his voice mimicked the emotion he knew he should, even though if wasn't really there. He knew he should love Pepper, so he mimicked what he knew he should feel, _but it wasn't really there. _And Pepper...well, she had let herself see what she'd wanted to see. Tony was relationship-challenged enough for the both of them, she could have kicked herself for letting her emotions blind her like that.

"What's the deal with Steve?" she demanded at last.

"Sorry?"

It's not Tony that replies but Steve, who had just opened the door with a very apprehensive, almost apologetic look on his face.

"I just, I didn't mean to interrupt, I came to get Tony. I called but he didn't answer, and he's missing a meeting? I, uh, I can-"

"Just give me a minute here Steve, I'll be up in a sec," Tony nodded to Steve, who gave one last confused, kicked-puppy look to Pepper before going back upstairs.

Yet again, Pepper found herself comparing; when had Tony ever agreed to go to something just because she asked, without her poking and prodding and dragging him into it?

"What do you mean, what's his deal? What's wrong with Steve?"

"Nothing," Pepper sighed, "Nothing is _wrong_ with Steve, I just-"

"I mean seriously, how could you _not _like the guy? He's Captain America, for one, I mean, hello, literal symbol of our country. Then of course-"

"Please don't give me a laundry list of Steve's virtues right now Tony, that is really not a good idea."

"You do have a problem with him, then!" Tony's voice was somehow both shocked and accusatory and for not the first time, he was making her want to punch a wall.

"No, Tony, I have a problem with _you."_

"Me?"

There was hurt there, and for just a flash, Pepper wondered if she was making a mistake.

Then, Steve laughed. Not really-he wasn't even in the room-but on one of Tony's holoscreens, a video of Steve had popped up. In the video, Steve was laughing, but it wasn't the polite chuckling Pepper was used to seeing. He's laughing a real, full on belly laughter, like whatever was just said was the funniest thing he'd heard in, well, 70 years. Then she can hear Tony's voice off-screen, presumably the one video-taping, going, "Frankly, Cap, your laughter is insulting" in a tone that was about 5% insulted and 95% proud of himself for the reaction, and you could just _hear _the grin in his voice. Steve was still laughing and laughing, though he tried to pause long enough to shoot Tony a look of mock sternness before bursting back into laughter, like he couldn't even keep a straight face.

Tony waved away the video before it finished, but it was enough.

She didn't know what they were talking about, didn't know why it made Steve laugh, didn't even know why it was taped; the whole thing was wrapped up in an air that, yes, was partially close friendship, but mostly a connection, a closeness that she suddenly knew with definite finality that she was never going to understand or come anywhere close to having with Tony.

Suddenly, she finds herself remembering the PR event they'd been at just a few days ago. At some point a woman had handed Steve her baby to kiss and take pictures with, and Pepper had been standing off to the side with Tony. Tony had remarked that, "God, of course Capsicle kisses all the babies. Man, the dames sure seem to get a kick out of that, don't they?" Pepper hadn't even had it in her to be surprised that he had picked up Steve's lingo, his 'dames' and all. Tony had kept talking, something about how they were "looking at him like he's the sun or something". Tony had tried to sound griping, but Pepper couldn't help but notice the faint smile on his face, the way his eyes never left Steve for more than a moment for the rest of the night, and she had to wonder if Steve wasn't Tony's sun too.

And the fond, instantly softened look on Tony's face when the video popped up didn't exactly contradict her.

"Sorry, he, uh...well, its an interview thing we were doing but we got distracted. Anyway, I told JARVIS to pull up all the video files of Cap because I'm putting together a collage thing, sort of, to help him acclimate and-" Tony was beginning to ramble, and Pepper let him.

A kind of peace washed over her as she watched him, the man she loved. The man she thought she loved. Snarky genius, fragile alcoholic, surprisingly selfless hero; there were so many sides to Tony Stark, how could she have thought she knew them all? She listened to him talk about some video project he was doing for Steve, something about catching up on the last seventy years, starting with footage and documentaries about what happened to him, moving through the decades, ending with footage of the New York Thing and clips of the Avengers as a group and hanging out and becoming a family. It was a nice idea, something that could simply be a nice, friendly little gesture. But the look in Tony's eyes as he described it, as he detailed all the little things he was going to add and the time he was going to put into it and the work he was going to do, it was just so much _more._

"-was trying to interview him, but he kept-"

"Tony."

"I'm rambling, sorry. You came down here for a reason, and I swear I can't even remember what it is. Remind me?"

He moved closer, like her was going to pull her into his arms; she stepped back as he stepped forward.

"Tony, this isn't working."

Silence.

He was shocked, yes; he was confused and she could see his mind instantly whirring to life as he tried to calculate what exactly was happening here and why and what he'd done to cause it and what could be done to fix it. There was surprise and confusion and calculation, but there wasn't hurt.

She was doing the right thing.

"I know you, Tony. Our relationship has been fading, and it's best if we acknowledge that. I know your heart isn't in this, and that's okay."

"Pepper, don't be mad, whatever I did-"

"Really, Tony, that's just it..." she paused, wanting her words to be true. She found, perhaps surprising even herself a little, that they really were, "I'm not. Mad, that is. I'm not mad, or upset even, not really."

"Honest, whatever I did, I swear I can-"

"It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault," she shook her head, smiling ruefully, "I know you, Tony, almost too well. We're better as friends. Don't tell me I'm wrong, I know when you're lying."

Tony paused, less out of hesitation and more out of thought. He was thinking, considering, working out the situation from every angle, still trying to figure out what exactly had happened.

"Okay."

It wasn't what she had been expecting, exactly, but maybe she should have. Maybe Tony understood what was going on better than she'd thought.

"You're right. I'm not a relationship kind of guy."

Or, maybe not.

"It's not that at all Tony, it's-"

"No, you're right. This isn't...this isn't working," Tony shook his head, dismissing her rebuttal, "I've been trying, I've been going over it in my head for weeks and I just...I couldn't get it to match, you know? I wanted it to, I swear, Pepper, I did-I do. But it's like when I try and adjust the repulsors to flight velocity ratios on the Iron Man specs, it's always just a little bit _off_, and then I want to fix it, but if I do I just end up throwing off the ratio more. and I thought it would be like that with this too, where I'd just have to settle for the ratio being a little off with us because that was just how it _worked_, that you just settle in relationships like you settle with figures but..." Tony paused, a flicker of real understanding in his eyes, "It's not, is it?"

"Tony...love isn't something you settle for. I don't know much about your ratios, but it sounds like 'a little off' is as good as they get, and Tony...real love is perfect. I mean, people aren't perfect, but when it's real love, the love between them _feels _perfect. It's just..." she can't find quite the right words, so she settles on, "Love is something you feel, not engineer, Tony. You can't make it work if it doesn't, and when it's right...you just know."

Pepper would have sworn up and down on her mother's Bible that as Tony looked away then, he didn't just turn away from her, but to the holoscreen behind them where Steve Roger's face was still stuck in a freeze-frame of laughter.

She was doing the right thing.


	13. Chapter 13

"Hey I just met you..."

Tony grit his teeth and reminded himself that the fact Steve was humming _any_ pop song under his breath instead of some 40's jig was a good thing.

"And this is crazy..."

Tony reminded himself that killing Captain America was a Bad Idea.

"But here's my number..."

Very. Bad. Idea.

"So call m-"

"Steve, so help me god, I will _kill _you if you don't stop humming that craptastic ode to autotune!"

Steve blinked up at Tony from his desk, eyes wide in far-too-innocent surprise and a small, sneaky grin. Before either man could say anything more, the vent grate popped open and a certain master assassin swung upside down from it, bursting into song.

"It's hard to look right," Clint belted loudly, "At you baaaaby! So here's my num-!"

Tony shoved Clint's face up against the nearest computer screen, feeling only 6% sorry, and that was because it meant he'd have to wipe the screen off later.

"Camehmebe," Clint finished, his voice muffled by the screen, but his obnoxious grin no less obvious. He pulled his face off the screen and nimbly landed on one of the workshop tables, "Jeez, someone can't take a joke. No wonder Coulson doesn't want you on this mission."

"I'm not going because I have much more important things to do here," Tony huffed.

It was half true. The board _was_ clamoring for his test results and suggested modifications on their latest StarkIndustries toy, but Tony was pretty adept at ignoring them. The main reason he wasn't going for this round had a name, and that was Magneto. Bastard. Tony had tried to get them to let him go anyway, just because he was stubborn, but Steve had been absolutely insistent that there was no way in hell he was letting Tony anywhere near anyone that could control metal. Tony had to admit that Steve had a fair point, and that between the Avengers and the X-Men, they could probably handle it.

Still, being benched sucked.

"C'mon Captain, Coulson says we're heading out," Clint gestured to Steve, who nodded.

"Coming," Steve stood, crossing to give Tony a hug goodbye and a warning, "See you in a week, Tony. Remember, you promised to eat something at least once while I'm gone."

"Yes, dear."

"I _will _know, Tony," Steve tried to be stern, but the smile on his face didn't help his cause.

* * *

Turned out, being alone in a giant Tower sucked pretty bad too.

Tony had been alone for a long time before the Avengers, but in these past months-god, it felt like years now-he'd grown so accustomed to everyone's simple _presence_. There was always someone around, rooting for leftovers in the kitchen, fighting over the remote in rec room, beating the crap out of each other in the gym. They all had their fair share of nightmares too, so even at 2 or 3am in the morning, there was always someone. And even if no one was in the immediate vicinity, you knew there were people, that there was life.

Now it was just a big empty tower.

Tony stayed in his workshop at first, but it felt strange after a while without Steve around. Steve rarely understood his technical jargon, but he listened, he was _there_, and that was a luxury Tony had sorely underestimated the value of. He went upstairs once it started getting late, but he found he wasn't particularly inclined to want to be there, either. The room that had once been his had eventually become his and Pepper's, and then as their problems had increased, had somehow become just Pepper's. He hadn't properly slept in that bed in ages, and he found that he didn't particularly want to now.

He and Pepper had parted friends, and still business associates. She was still running the company, so she was staying in New York, but she had moved out two days ago. Pepper came and went on business trips often enough that the other Avengers had yet to notice, and Tony had yet to tell them, not even Steve. Well, Steve certainly knew something was up, but he hadn't pushed and Tony hadn't told him yet, if for no other reason than he didn't known how to say it exactly. Because if he said she'd dumped him, that made it sound like she'd broken his heart or something. Then they would all feel sorry for him and give him those worried, cautiously sympathetic looks, when really…he wasn't heartbroken. At all, really. Wasn't even that devastated.

He'd been talking to Steve for weeks about how to talk to Pepper about their relationship. He hadn't thought about breaking up with her exactly…at least, he hadn't been _planning _on it. But one thing Tony Stark was not, was stupid. He was relationship-challenged, sure, but that didn't mean he hadn't known there was a big, fat, unspoken problem in their relationship. Okay, so, he still didn't know what it had been, exactly, but he knew there'd been one.

And he liked to think that counted for something.

So he'd brought Steve on their dates as often as possible, tried to get his opinion on what exactly was going wrong between them, but Steve hadn't been able to figure it out either. Then again, Steve wasn't exactly well-versed in the minds of women, so maybe he hadn't been the best choice to help him analyze Pepper's frustrations. Either way, it was over and done with now, and Tony couldn't help but feel guiltily relieved. He hadn't realized exactly how much The Pepper Problem had been weighing on him until it was gone. The bickering, the tension, the constant question on his mind of _what am I doing wrong…_it had gotten to him.

Steve had tried to tell him, too. They'd had a million conversations about it, and Tony could hear Steve in his head now; _You said you would just know if it was love, and you don't, so why are you trying to fake it? This isn't fair to Pepper, and it certainly isn't fair to you._ _You don't have to hold on to this relationship just for the sake of 'not messing up'; sometimes relationships just don't work…sometimes you're just meant to be with someone else. You deserve that, Tony. You deserve better._

Well, the last one was a laugh, but Steve did have a point. Trying to make their relationship work when it clearly didn't hadn't been beneficial for anyone involved. Pepper seemed to be doing better since the breakup, too. They still talked, about business and in general, and though these conversations weren't long or in depth, according to Happy she was well off and doing great. Tony was genuinely happy for her.

Didn't mean he wanted to be surrounded with what she'd left behind though. So Tony trudged back down the stairs, unwilling to stay in what had been their bedroom. He was already making plans to reconvert it back to the way it had been before, when he came across a green sticky note stuck to his workshop door.

_Breakfast first, Tony._

Tony snorted, recognizing that neat, blocky soldier's handwriting anywhere. He plucked the note off the door and entered anyway; Steve wouldn't know-

Dummy was waiting at the doorstep, a purple sticky note in his claw.

_I mean it, Tony._

Dummy beeped and waved, clearly gesturing Tony out. Tony gaped.

"When did you become _Steve's_ minion? This is outrageous!" Tony glared at the bot, turning on his heel and heading for the kitchen, "I _will _dismantle you one of these days…fine. What_ever. _I'll have you know, I was heading there anyway."

He made a beeline for the coffee machine, only to discover a sticky note there as well, this time red.

_Coffee is not breakfast._

"I'm not a child, Steve," Tony pouted to himself, resignedly grabbing a box of poptarts from the pantry anyway. A yellow sticky caught his attention instead.

_If you're not a child or a Nordic god, then don't eat sugar for breakfast._

Tony made an inhuman sound in the back of his throat, something along the lines of "alhlkahglhlhFINE" before shoving the poptarts back huffily. He gave up, going to retrieve milk, a bowl, and the cereal he liked on the rare occasion he was forced to ingest food. There was one last sticky, a blue one with a little smiley face on it stuck to the box of cereal, and Tony couldn't help but smile back in spite of himself.

The rest of the week passed in a strange, dream-like sense of utter boredom for Tony. He found it impossible to sleep, even in his workshop, so, running on no sleep and very little food, he starting inventing things. By the time he finished, he wasn't always sure what he'd meant to build in the first place, or even how they worked, and they ended up blowing up in his face a lot. There were a lot of explosions, which was to be expected when Tony was left alone for long periods of time, but he managed not to damage anything of any structural importance. Well, okay, he'd blown out the upstairs windows with that last thing that had maybe been an automatic window wiper-but then why had he included an ignition function?-anyway, there were the windows, a couple of scorch marks on the carpet, and the rec room TV needed to be replaced, but that could all be easily done by the time the team came home.

Home.

Huh. When had that happened, Tony wondered. He'd probably thought it before, but it occurred to him he couldn't really think of when exactly the Tower had become their home. It had been Tony's for a while, but when the others had first moved in, he'd thought about them more in terms of long-time guests. Somewhere along the line, that had clearly changed, because Tony didn't question it for a minute. This was their home, and they needed to hurry back before he singed his eyebrows off again.

"Sir, may I suggest you attempt to get some sleep?" JARVIS interrupted his thoughts, "The team is returning in less than 48 hours, and if you continue your current non-sleeping patterns I doubt Captain Rogers will be particularly pleased with you."

Ah, shit.

Steve was going to be pissed.

"Uh, right. On it," Tony nodded, picking up the last few pieces of his window-wiper fiasco.

He was passing by one of the upstairs rooms when he caught sight of the open door. It led into his mother's music room, the one with the grand piano she'd taught him to play on when he was young. No one went into that room; Tony himself hadn't been inside in years, if not decades.

"JARVIS, who's been in there?"

JARVIS hesitated a moment, but answered before Tony could make it a demand.

"Captain Rogers, sir. He discovered the room a week before he left, he tended to come up and play a bit after you passed out in the workshop."

"Oh."

Steve had been playing his mother's piano. Tony had absolutely no idea how to feel about that. He wandered into the room, gazing around, the memories coming back with such force they almost knocked him off his feet. Her fingers, long and slender, flying over the keys like two nimble birds in perfect harmony. He remembered her soft hands cupping his small ones, teaching him to dance across the keys as she did. He'd had a talent for mimicry, able to repeat the keys she played by ear. He could play most things back perfectly, but he had never been able to make the music sound vibrant and alive the way she had.

Like a little robot; able to copy but not create.

"Play one back," Tony's murmured words almost surprised himself, then he clarified, louder and to JARVIS, "Play, uh, play the first audio recording of Steve on this piano."

He crossed the room slowly as JARVIS loaded the recording and played it, the sound of Steve experimenting with the keys echoing in the lonely room. Tony paused by the piano bench, ghosting his fingertips over the ivories but not daring to press one, somehow fearing that his own fumbling might tamper with the beautiful recording. Because Steve had talent, real talent, talent like his mother had. Even over the recording, Tony could so clearly hear the life being breathed back into the old keys, the heart poured into them, turning simple keystrokes into something effervescent. For a few moments it was just Tony and the keys, the music washing over him.

Then, Steve began to sing.

_Love is funny or it's sad,_

_Or it's quiet or it's mad,_

_It's a good thing or it's bad,_

_But beautiful._

His voice was soft, unsteady at first, shaky reminiscence in his voice. The song sounded old and vaguely familiar, something he might have heard Steve humming once. It was clearly familiar to the soldier, something he had probably learned before the war. Though his voice wavered his fingers never did, and Tony could see the scene in his mind as clearly as if he himself had been there; Steve closing his eyes and letting his fingers dance across the keys by memory, a familiar song in an unfamiliar place, remembering his home and his time and everything he had lost.

_Beautiful to take a chance,_

_And if you fall, you fall,_

_And I'm thinking I wouldn't mind at all._

_Love is tearful or it's gay,_

_It's a problem or it's play,_

_It's a heartache either way,_

_But beautiful._

_And I'm thinking if you were mine,_

_I'd never let you go,_

_And that would be but beautiful I know._

_And I'm thinking if you were mine,_

_I'd never let you go,_

_And that would be but beautiful,_

_That would be but beautiful,_

_I know._

The song came to an end, and Tony walked away from the piano to sit by the door. Though Steve continued to experiment with the keys, bits and pieces of songs that were neither here nor there, Tony found himself missing Steve's voice. His playing was better, perhaps, but there was something so distinctly Steve about his singing voice. It was soft but strong, gentle yet sure, and Tony suddenly found himself missing Steve desperately.

"JARVIS, play another."

JARVIS didn't respond, but the current recording stopped and another song came on. This time it began with a rustle of pages, and the song Steve sang was one Tony knew, though he couldn't remember ever sharing it with Steve. Tony closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, content to let the music wash over him again.

_You saw my pain, washed out in the rain_

_Broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins_

_But you saw no fault, no cracks in my heart_

_And you knelt beside my hope torn apart_

_But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from you_

_And we'll live a long life._

_So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light_

_Cause oh that gave me such a fright_

_But I will hold you as long as you like_

_Just promise me we'll be alright._

The song went on, Steve's voice never rising above a soothing lull, and Tony found himself drifting off as Steve's voice filled the empty space.

* * *

The first thing Steve noticed when he was dropped off outside the Tower was the broken glass on the ground outside. His mind raced to break-ins and supervillains and kidnappings and Tony, who without his armor was all too human. He was inside the building in a flash, opening his mouth to call for Tony, when he was caught off guard by the sound of a piano. The song was familiar; he remembered playing it himself barely a week ago, the night after he'd been hit by Loki's nightmare spell. He then caught the sound of the singer, of himself, and his face flushed. Of course he'd been recorded, the whole house was wired; didn't make it any less embarrassing.

"Tony?" Steve called out, his heart beating just a little too fast as he ascended the stairs with haste.

_So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light_

_Cause oh that gave me such a fright_

As he reached the second floor, he caught sight of the blown out windows and scorch marks on the carpet; though it could easily be Tony's bored destructiveness at work, the sight set his paranoid mind on edge nonetheless. Steve caught sight of the open door and went through, to find Tony, grease smudged on his cheeks and bags under his eyes, sound asleep against the wall.

_But I will hold you as long as you like_

_Just promise me that we'll be alright._

"Oh, Tony," Steve gave a quiet sigh of relief as he sank down on the floor next to Tony, letting the smaller man lean against him, murmuring softly to himself, "You didn't sleep at all, did you?"

_But hold me still, bury my heart on the cold_

_And hold me still, bury my heart next to yours._

"Mm?" Tony was beginning to blink awake.

"Go back to sleep, Tony," Steve smiled fondly, pulling Tony into his lap.

"Mm," Tony mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep, "When'd you g'back?"

"Home early, my part is done. The others aren't due for another few days. Get some rest."

"Mm," Tony nodded his assent with a yawn, then, "Like your voice, Cap."

"Thank you," Steve chuckled, slightly embarrassed.

Tony nuzzled closer then, still more asleep than awake, letting his head drop so that he faced Steve's stomach. The forever-moving man seemed at peace for once, and his hair looked so soft…but Steve hesitated. Regardless of how close they were, Steve knew his intentions weren't exactly pure when it came to Tony. He didn't know when it had started, not exactly. Somewhere, somehow, the line between friendship and attraction had blurred for Steve. He hadn't known it at the time-though perhaps he'd known it was something more than friendship when he'd seen Tony's chest, a map of scar tissue and blue light, and all he could think was _beautiful-_but it wasn't until Loki had hit him with the worst possible scenario that he realized losing Tony _was _the worst possible scenario, and for many more reasons than Tony knew.

Which brought him to his dilemma, because if Tony found out, Steve would lose him anyway. Because Tony and Pepper may have been rocky lately, but that didn't excuse the fact that Tony was still taken, and rather painfully straight.

To be honest, Steve wasn't entirely sure which hurt worse.

He found himself so preoccupied with his thoughts that his fingers tangled in Tony's dark hair of their own accord, and Steve would have laughed had it not been so decidedly unfunny. Well. If he could never have Tony, it wouldn't hurt anyone if he didn't deny himself this small moment. Tony nuzzled against him, his breathing evening out as he slipped back into sleep. Though his heart was aching, Steve knew that if all he ever had were little moments like these, it would be enough.

Steve couldn't help but take the moment to look at Tony's sleeping face. The genius was always so busy, always thinking about a million things at once, hardly pausing to breathe much less take care of himself. He hadn't felt good about leaving Tony to his own affairs for a week, but he hadn't been able to get out of the mission. He'd only been allowed to leave early because his part had been over, and he'd hadn't wanted to be off on some mission on Bucky's birthday. He hadn't wanted to be around anyone today, but Tony seemed to be the exception to most rules anyway.

And the man was certainly taking his mind off it; he hadn't exactly expected to come home to find Tony falling asleep to the songs Steve had sung about Tony himself. Tony probably didn't know they were about him in the first place, but…

Well.

A man could dream, couldn't he?

"'nother."

"Hm?" Steve blinked, Tony's voice momentarily distracting him from his thoughts. The song had come to an end, and the lack of sound seemed to wake Tony up, if only barely, "Oh. Another…song?"

"Mhmm. Sing t'me."

Tony's lips were almost pressed against Steve's stomach as he mumbled the words, and it sent an electric current through Steve that he found rather difficult to ignore. Tony's head happened to be in his lap though, so he did his very best to clamp down on those thoughts.

"And what would I sing about?"

"Me, a'course," Tony mumbled again, clearly nowhere near awake.

"You want a song about you, hm?"

"What, 'm not sp'cial as her?"

Steve paused, completely thrown off.

"Who?"

"A'dunno. The girl."

"You're going to have to give me a little more than that, Tony."

"The girl in the _song, _they're…" Tony paused to yawn again, "You were singin' love songs."

"There's no girl, Tony," Steve murmured with a sigh.

"You lost her?"

"…" Steve hesitated, then answered with a pained smile, "Never mine to begin with."

"Mm," Tony nodded into his stomach, then, absent-mindedly, "I think…I think Pep's both."

"Oh?"

"I lost her," Tony murmured, and Steve felt himself go still, unsure how to react, not that still-half-asleep Tony noticed anyway, "And she was never really mine anyway. There was always distance 'tween us, but maybe that was me. Didn't know how to...relate, how t'be with her like...like that, like she she wanted. I wasn't good enough. You were right, she deserves better."

"Tony," Steve sighed, suddenly exasperated, "I didn't say that. I said _you _deserve better. Why are you so intent on this idea that you don't?"

"Cause I _don't_," Tony just shook his head sleepily, "Fucked up. Always fuck it up-"

"Tony," Steve stopped him, "You didn't. It wasn't your fault. The relationship didn't work, you got out of it. That just…that just leaves room for someone better in your life. Someone who loves you for the amazing person that you are. Someone who deserves you."

It stung to think of someone else filling the gap Pepper had vacated, but if it was what was best for Tony, Steve was sure he would come to terms with whoever they were in due time. Before Tony could come back at him with another self-deprecating comment that would surely make Steve want nothing more than to kiss him and his silly self-hatred silent forever, Steve spoke again.

"We should move you to an actual bed, Tony."

"Nu-uh, still owe me a song," Tony shook his head, but his words were even more slurred with sleep, and he was obviously nodding back off, "But not 'bout her though. 'bout me."

"Fine," Steve sighed, not bothering to correct Tony again about the nonexistent girl.

_Heart beats fast_

_Colors and promises_

_How to be brave_

_How can I love when I'm afraid to fall_

It was a song he'd heard on the radio the other day, a song that had barely left his mind since he'd heard it. It made him think far too much about Tony, not that that wasn't a horribly addictive habit of Steve's anyway. He wondered, as he watched Tony's eyelashes flutter closed-and really, who has eyelashes like that? It was ridiculous how hypnotizing something as simple as the man's eyelashes were-what Tony would do if he ever discovered that Steve found it pretty much impossible to deny him anything he asked for.

_Abuse it shamelessly, no doubt_, Steve thought to himself, his voice faltering slightly with a chuckle at the thought. He continued singing as he stroked Tony's hair, until his breathing evened out and it became clear he had fallen back to sleep. Steve continued his song anyway as he shifted to pick the sleeping man up in his arms.

_I have died everyday waiting for you_

_Darling don't be afraid I have loved you_

_For a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

Tony was asleep as Steve carried him down the hall, at first headed for the elevator that would take him to Tony's room. Then, he quickly realized that if Tony and Pepper had broken up, that room would be exactly where Tony didn't want to be. He changed courses then, taking Tony to his room instead. Steve tucked Tony in, brushing back the tousled dark hair from his forehead and wiping away a small grease mark near Tony's ear. Tony turned at his touch with a small 'mm', a smile gracing his sleeping face. Steve sat on the edge of the bed, finishing the song before turning out the lights and leaving Tony in peace.

_And all along I believed I would find you_

_Time has brought your heart to me_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more._

* * *

Steve's songs:

But Beautiful (the version Steve knew was the original from the late 30s, I like Nat King Cole's version personally)

Ghosts That We Knew by Mumford & Sons (though when Steve sang it, it was a bit softer, a touch more melancholy)

A Thousand Years by Christina Perri


	14. Chapter 14

"You," Tony declared as he plopped down next to Steve, "Are a sneaky bastard."

"Oh?" Steve looked up, surprised to see Tony awake so soon.

Then he glanced at the time display on the StarkPhone Tony had given him ages ago; turned out he'd been up there a lot longer than he'd thought. He'd thought it was eight or so, maybe nine. Turned out it was now almost eleven at night, and he'd put Tony to bed around noon. After that, he'd tried to preoccupy himself, tried to do anything but think about what day it was. He'd gone back to the piano room, played a little while, but it hadn't been enough. He'd thought maybe some mindless TV would be good, but for some, inexplicable reason-a reason most likely named Tony-the TV had been in pieces, scattered across the rec room floor.

So Steve had retreated to the rooftop, and had been sitting there, alone with his thoughts ever since. Today was Bucky's birthday; the thought of Bucky was horribly painful enough normally, but the fact that this was the first year he'd spend it without Bucky, well. Didn't help matters, exactly. So Steve had tried to distract himself by thinking of good things, but thinking of good things had inevitably led him to thinking of Tony, which had led to the usual slew of I'm-in-love-with-my-straight-best-friend thoughts and really, all in all? Just not a good night. But now Tony was here, and Tony was talking, and Steve couldn't help but feel a little better.

"I don't think I've slept that long since I was seventeen, god knows how you did it. Also, I'm pretty sure you're a siren. Just throwing that out there."

"I see," Steve nodded, glad for the distraction, "Clearly I've been busy. Captain America, sneaky bastard, siren…what I full life I lead."

"Can't forget time traveller, super soldier, and, of course, best friend of _the _Tony Stark. That's a full-time gig all on it's own."

"You're telling me," Steve laughed, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears.

"Hey," Tony frowned, "What's wrong? I'm not that much of a handful, am I?"

"No, no, it's not you. It's just," Steve waved a hand dismissively, "Today."

"Rough day?"

"You have no idea."

"So tell me. Tell you what, I'll even tell you a secret in exchange: turns out, contrary to popular belief, I _can _shut up and listen. When I want to. And I do. So. Talk," Tony grinned, nudging Steve lightly with his shoulder.

"Nothing happened, really," Steve tried to shrug him off, but Tony's perceptiveness was not to be underestimated.

"Why're you home early, then?"

"Well…" Steve squirmed, then, "The team was doing well, and my part was done…I just felt so useless sitting around, you know? Today…I wanted to be alone, and instead I ended up on some mission half-way around the world, surrounded by people. I thought I could handle it, but…"

"Today's Bucky's birthday, isn't it?"

"…you're too smart for your own good, you know that?"

"It added up."

"Yeah. Well. You're right, of course," Steve shook his head, "I needed to be home. Losing Bucky felt like the ground was ripped out from under me. Then when I woke up here, my whole world was taken out from under me too, and I just…needed something solid today, something real…something that didn't make me feel so damn lost."

Months ago, this would have been when Tony made a joke to lighten the mood, to steer the conversation away from anything involving any sort of depth. Probably something about Captain America using a swear word. Instead, Tony leaned into him.

"I'm not much…but would you settle for me?" Tony asked quietly, resting his head on Steve's shoulder.

"That's not settling," Steve shook his head with a chuckle, "That's all I wanted in the first place."

Tony said nothing as they looked up at the stars together, but there was a small, grateful smile on his face. They were silent a long time before Tony spoke up.

"I don't know much about what you're going through…I can't even imagine. But one thing I learned when my father died, was that just because the dead are buried doesn't mean they're gone. They're in the air we breathe, the thoughts we give them…they live on in who we are because of how they've changed us. We all have our ghosts, some good, some bad...but maybe we're better off that way."

Tony thought of his father. He thought of the hours Howard spent locked away from the world, from his wife and child, drinking and working endlessly until it all collapsed in on him. He had left Tony alone in the world, but Howard had been alone a long time before that. Tony thought of his own work, and all the times Pepper had tried to pull him away and failed, eventually giving up and just leaving him alone down there. Towards the end, in these past few months, she hadn't even bothered to try anymore; he was too difficult to deal with and she'd always had have a million other things to do.

He found himself comparing her to Steve. While Pepper had only ever tried to pull him away from his work, Steve had managed to integrate himself into it seamlessly, somehow becoming a necessary part of Tony's daily life long before Tony had even realized what was happening. While he got Tony out and about too, got him eating and sleeping and all those important things, he also made an effort to be in Tony's little workshop world. He thought of all the hours Steve had sat with him down there, sketching or chatting away contentedly, never making Tony feel rushed or forced. He somehow always seemed to know when Tony needed company, even if he was too stubborn to say anything about it.

"They may be gone, but that doesn't mean they don't still have things to teach us," Tony sighed, "Doesn't mean they aren't still a part of us."

Comfortable silence fell over them again as Steve processed Tony's words. Steve looked up to the night sky, remembering all the times he'd sat out in the wilderness with Bucky on some mission, and Bucky had spent hours pointing out every last constellation he could find and making up plenty more.

"Have I ever told you how much I love the stars?"

Tony glanced at Steve's face, and saw that he was utterly entranced by the night sky. Somehow, it didn't surprise him; he smiled.

"I don't think so."

"They look the same," Steve murmured, his fingers stretched, as if he could reach out and brush them against the stars, "They haven't changed at all."

A lump was forming in his throat, and Steve's breath caught; the stars were the same, but everything underneath them had changed. The land, the people, everything he had ever known, it was all gone, and _Bucky, _God, Bucky-

Before he knew what was happening Tony's arms were around him and Steve was clutching to him, holding on to him like if he let go the entire world was going to fall apart. He sobbed then, his breath heavy and hitched like he was an asthmatic teenager all over again, and he wondered if maybe he should have just left the war alone like everyone had said, if he'd have just gone and lived his life, if maybe then Bucky and Peggy and everyone he'd ever known wouldn't be _dead. _

Tony's fingers were in his hair, stroking softly and murmuring that it was okay, it would all be okay, and it occurred to Steve that then he never would have met Tony. And while Steve was learning to cope without his past, he didn't have an absolute _clue _what he would do without Tony. So he gripped the other man's shirt tighter and tried to breathe, tried to remember that maybe Tony wasn't the reason he'd been brought here, but he was a very good reason to stay.

Steve fell asleep soon after, his mind foggy and his eyes still red. Tony found he didn't really mind all that much, not even when Steve drooled on his pant leg. He told himself he'd wake Steve up and go inside soon…just…not yet.

_Just another ten minutes_, he thought to himself as he stroked Steve's surprisingly soft blonde hair, _Maybe twenty_. _Steve does look pretty tired…_

So he continued rubbing small circles soothingly on Steve's back, until he too found himself drifting off to sleep.

* * *

When Steve first woke up, he could not for the life of him figure out where he was.

Then he caught sight of the sun peeking up over the horizon, and it came back to him in a rush. He sat up slowly, careful not to wake the still sleeping Tony. He watched the purple-pink sunrise a moment, before turning to look back at Tony. The dawn illuminated his profile, light marking the contours of his cheekbones, dancing across his eyelashes and drawing out the pink in his lips, and Steve almost let himself think the word he'd been dancing around for who knows how long.

Then Tony blinked. He didn't move at all, just blinked awake, unreadable brown eyes seeking out Steve in question. Tony's arc reactor suddenly seemed very bright as Steve felt himself leaning in, nearly closing the impossibly small gap between his lips and Tony's.

Then, without warning, Tony was talking and moving and making his excuses, and in a panicked whirlwind, he was gone. Steve blinked at the empty space, and found he didn't have a clue what had just happened.

"JARVIS, I need you to run some diagnostic scans," Tony declared as he raced down the stairs.

This was a medical emergency, which called for speed. Obviously. Running? What? He wasn't running from anyone-any_thing, _running from anything. Obviously.

"Sir?"

"My chest has been acting up again, I think the shrapnel could be the cause," Tony said, talking a mile a minute as he headed for his workshop, "I keep having these little...I don't know, call them panic attacks. I perspire more actively, the blood goes to my head, and I've even had a few heart palpitations. Run a full body scan but focus on my chest and the reactor for signs of-"

"Did these symptoms occur before or after you awakened on top of Captain Rogers?"

"I didn't program you to be such smartass, JARVIS," Tony snapped. He was suddenly very much not in the mood to be sassed by a computer program.

"Firstly, you quite specifically did," JARVIS sighed, repeating this fact for what seemed to be the millionth time, then, "Secondly, I wasn't being humorous so much as attempting to steer you towards a more correct conclusion than shrapnel."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tony shook his head, keying in his workshop code like lightning.

"At your level of intelligence, I believe you do, sir."

"I told you my symptoms, obviously the shrapnel is becoming active again," Tony growled.

"You said you were blushing, sweaty and that your heart skipped a beat."

"I did _not _say_-"_

"Not in so many words, granted, but those are as good a definition of your symptoms as any, and the general conclusion of such symptoms would be more accurately diagnosed as lovesickness."

"You're a little snot today, aren't you? Fine, I'll run the tests myself," Tony waved his hand over mute before JARVIS could say anything further, "Fucking robots."

"That's not very nice, Tony."

It was Steve. Of course it was Steve.

"I'm not in a nice mood," Tony huffed, turning his back on Steve to fiddle with one of the holoscreens.

"And why is that, exactly?"

"Because I'm dying."

"You're _what?_"

Steve was across the room in a flash, his hands on Tony's shoulders, and it occurred to Tony that a) that had probably not been the most calming response to give his best friend who happened to have a fear of Tony dying on him, and b) this response meant Steve was touching him, and for reasons Tony really did not feel like interpreting at the moment, he did _not _want Steve touching him. He shrugged Steve's hands off without preamble, and Steve looked taken aback.

"Bad phrasing, I got a little dramatic there," Tony admitted, "The shrapnel is just acting up again."

"It is?" that clearly didn't do much to ease Steve's concern, though he seemed wary of touching Tony again. Tony didn't know how to feel about that.

"Yep. Now I've got some tests to run, and you probably want to shower and change clothes and stuff, so I'll just…yeah. Run my tests," Tony rambled, before turning his back on Steve again.

He couldn't bring himself to turn back around again for another half hour, but when he did Steve was gone, and Tony felt something strange tighten in his chest.

* * *

Tony managed to avoid Steve for a whole week.

Why he did it, Tony himself couldn't have said. But considering that for the first two of those seven days they were home alone together, the how was a feat of pure genius. At least, that was how Tony phrased it. Steve would have used something far more accurate, something more along the lines of pure desperation, had he not been so busy attempting to decimate every punching bag that had ever come into existence. Because it _hurt_, God Almighty it hurt. It hurt and it hurt and it hurt and not once in all seven days did the pain even begin lessen an ounce.

On the third day, the rest of the team came home. They greeted the group separately-"Where's Tony? Oh, you know Tony, always in the lab." "Where's Steve? Well, he's gotta keep up that Captain America physique somehow, y'know?"-and managed to continue their little dance.

Then, Tony decided to throw a party to welcome the Avengers home.

Coulson had approved on the sole basis that it be a _gala, _not a party. Tony had agreed and Coulson had started to call Pepper, at which point Tony had hastily told everyone that oh hey, fyi, they broke up. Sorry he kept it a secret. So, yeah. That. Coulson had just rolled his eyes and asked Tony if he _really _thought there was anything even remotely resembling a secret in this Tower, then Pepper had answered. She'd agreed to help, and by the end of the week, the Avengers were hosting a charity gala.

It was something for orphans, Tony was pretty sure. Or maybe the hungry. Maybe hungry orphans, he hadn't really been listening. He'd been pretty preoccupied, in fact, by the different gorgeous women he had made quite sure to be surrounded by at every turn. Because this, _this _was who he was. This was what he thrived on, what he did best; schmoozing and charming and seducing, playing the Stark game the way he'd been born to.

"Tony."

Ah, that hadn't been part of the plan. He'd managed to avoid Steve quite well, almost entirely, over the past week. And yet…there he was. Dressed to the nines, of course, not that Tony cared.

"Steve, hey, sorry, I've been, y'know, super busy and all, running tests, and things, yeah. You know how it goes," Tony found himself fumbling for words, trying to look around the room and finding himself unable to keep his eyes from inevitably returning to the all-too-distracting sight in front of him, and he loathed himself for it.

"Of course," Steve nodded, "Shrapnel."

"Right. Shrapnel. Shitty stuff, that."

"Are you alright, Tony?" Steve's voice became quieter, and it was clear he was talking about a lot more than shrapnel.

"Of course I'm alright, I'm smiling aren't I? Now if you'll excuse me, there's a supermodel calling my name...literally," Tony winked before sauntering off to meet with her.

And, okay, yes, she was blonde.

But so what? Tony had slept with plenty of blondes before. That was totally a thing. So maybe she had blue eyes too, but who said having blonde hair and blue eyes was a crime? Certainly not Tony. So maybe they weren't the best blue eyes he'd ever seen before, not quite that soft cerulean he'd somehow grown used to, and maybe they were a little too icy, a little too cold…but then, who had ever said Tony Stark was picky about who he slept with?

* * *

No one was surprised when Tony took one of the women up to his room. Though no one could remember when _exactly_ he'd taken a drink, it was a pretty easy conclusion, and no one really paid his actions any mind.

Except Steve.

Because yes, Tony had been smiling. He had been smiling at everyone and laughing with the press and flirting with all of the bodacious women hanging off his arms and on his every word, but it was Tony's eyes Steve had been looking at, brown and distant and not smiling at all. So when Steve saw Tony, saw him leading some blonde dame out of the room by the small of her back, whispering something in her ear, he suddenly had an overwhelming desire for air.

Because if being ignored had hurt, this was infinitely worse. Steve had _known _that Tony was straight. He'd known that, and he'd still been stupid enough, naïve enough, to hope. To lean in just a little farther than he should have. He knew he'd taken an unnecessary risk and made Tony uncomfortable, but he hoped that Tony just needed some time and space, that after that they could return to their friendship. Of course he wanted more, he wanted more with every bone in his body, but if friendship was all he could have from Tony then he would take it for what it was and be damn grateful.

Except for this part. Because this part, this sitting alone outside while Tony was with some woman…this part, Steve could feel in his heart, was never going to get any easier.

Less than ten minutes since Tony disappeared upstairs with the supermodel, Steve heard someone crashing through the bushes.

"Christ, there you are," Tony growled, "What the fuck are you doing all the way out here?"

Steve was speechless, but Tony didn't seem to be looking for an answer anyway. He grabbed Steve by the wrist and roughly dragged him back, around through a side entrance and a back hallway. Before Steve could form enough of a coherent thought to ask what Tony was doing, he was pulled into one of the guest bedrooms and promptly shoved up against a wall.

Then, bliss.

Tony's mouth was crashing against his, hot and heavy and insistent. Before Steve could even begin to process that, Tony was running his tongue across Steve's lower lip, then biting at it, not asking entrance so much as demanding it. Eventually Steve gave up on thought and just kissed back, giving as good as he got. Tony's hands moved from Steve's face to his waist, pulling the larger man flush against him. Steve tugged at Tony's hair and Tony responded with a heady groan and a fierce kiss Steve reveled in. They kissed like that, senseless and impassioned, for a good long while, all the lust and frustration that had been bottled up for far too long finally released.

Then, slowly but surely, the heat began to melt. Their kisses became gentler, more languid, just a steady rhythm of their lips together with a little tongue here, a nip on the lip there. As their hands slowed, Steve hesitatingly moved them forward. He pushed Tony back until they ended up tangled on the bed.

They stayed there for hours, a mess of lazy limbs and sloppy kisses. Their clothes stayed on and they kissed idly, Steve still just basking in the connection of his lips against Tony's. Tony began pressing kisses soft as butterfly wings down Steve's cheek, then his jaw, trailing off to nip at his ear before moving to his neck. He sucked and bit and teased there, taking his time to elicit low moans from Steve and a number of bright red and purple marks. This teasing faded back into soft, chaste kisses, which turned into Tony curling up into Steve even more, and eventually falling asleep in his arms. It wasn't long before Tony's warmth and the happiness pooling in his stomach and the bright sensation blossoming in his chest lulled Steve into a tired, happy sleep as well.

* * *

The moment Tony woke up, he disentangled himself from his bedmate and took off for the safety of his room. He had JARVIS lock him in, and then he sunk down on the bed, put his head in his hands, and tried to breathe. That hadn't worked out very well so now he was pacing, tapping his fingers against the reactor aggressively, still hyperventilating, still _thinking. _He tried to stop, tried to block out his thoughts, his whole damn brain, but he couldn't, it was the fucking Steve channel in his brain and it wouldn't turn off. Tony debated drowning himself in alcohol, but shook the thought off. He'd had one drink at that god damn party and he'd ended up making out with his _platonic _best friend; alcohol was not to be trusted.

Which, of course, brought his mind right on back to that kiss, that _fucking kiss, _and it was hell all over again.

Because kissing didn't feel like_ that_. Not by a fucking long shot. That had been…well. Weird, of course. Totally weird. It certainly hadn't felt like any kiss Tony had ever had, not even close. At least…kissing women didn't feel like that. Nope, he did _not _just think that, he never thought that, it was already erased from the files of his brain. Yep. Kissing was just…a thing. A thing that led to sex and sex was great and then maybe they slept but they didn't really _sleep, _didn't really touch each other even, and that was great and the woman left in the morning and it never, ever like it was when had fallen asleep with Steve just then. Or like the other times they'd fallen asleep together, because that seemed to be a thing that happened to them lately. He really needed to get more sleep.

_It didn't feel like that with women, because with Steve it was warmth and home and _friendship_, you dummy, _Tony reminded himself, _It feels like that because it's _friendship_, platonic friendship, and you have never had a real, honest to god friend that you weren't paying in capacity before so for the love of everything, don't you _dare _fuck this up._

Not even if kissing Steve Rogers was maybe what kissing was supposed to feel like. Like instead of just a mashing of lips to get sex, it felt _good_, the in your bones, touch your soul kind of good. Like he had been gone a long time and just come home to something familiar and real, something that _mattered, _which just a touch of new, of spark, just to remind him what he'd been missing.

_Fuck._


	15. Chapter 15

When Steve woke up, he was in one of the guest bedrooms, dressed in a rumpled suit.

He rolled over with a groan, having fallen asleep at an odd angle. His arms were splayed open, like he'd been holding something, but nothing was there. Steve frowned in confusion; why was he wearing a suit? Why did the bed feel so empty? Come to think of it, why was he in a guest bedroom in the first place? He rubbed his neck-why did it feel so sore?-and got up. He stumbled into the bathroom, trying to shake the sleepiness that still fogged his mind. He made his way to the mirror to comb his mussed hair into place then froze, hands still in his hair, as he caught sight of himself.

_What the fuck?_

Steve couldn't even be embarrassed about the swear that slipped through his mind; Tony rubbing off on him, surely. Which was clearly not the only rubbing Tony had been doing lately. Steve's neck was covered in bright red and dark purple splotches that looked like bruises, lining from under his left ear all the way down to his collarbone.

And then last night flashed through his mind.

A ribbon of warmth curled through his abdomen, and Steve couldn't help the shiver that raced down his spine as the memories flooded him. They were all of Tony; gorgeous, amazing Tony. Tony kissing Steve up against the wall like he needed it to live. Tony curling up in Steve's arms, his mouth hot on Steve's neck, slowly drawing out sounds Steve still couldn't believe he'd made.

Well.

Steve flushed, a tingle playing across his lips. He wondered briefly where Tony was, then he glanced over at the clock. _11 in the afternoon?_ Good God, no wonder Tony was gone, it was almost lunch. Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd ever slept that late, but then, he'd been up rather late last night. And rather…active.

He snuck upstairs, sprinting down the halls and sneaking around the corners, being very, very careful to keep himself (and his atrociously colorful neck) out of sight. He made it to his room, slipping into his closet and changing into clean clothes and throwing on a jacket that covered his neck…barely. He'd have to be careful, but it would work.

He made his way downstairs then, unsure what exactly he'd be facing.

Turned out he wasn't the only one having a strange morning. He walked into the kitchen to find Clint slumped over the table, groaning loudly and altogether looking like a dead man. Natasha was sitting next to him, not looking quite as…well, dead, but she was rubbing a hand against her flushed forehead like she was holding back a war. Through the archway, Steve could see Thor snoring loudly on the couch, limbs splayed like his legs had given out and he'd collapsed there. Bruce was also on the couch, out cold and drooling on Thor's stomach. There was waffles and bacon on the table, and Coulson was cooking eggs at the stove.

"Rough night, then?" Steve chuckled, earning assorted groans in reply.

"You don't even know," Clint complained into the table, "I feel like some overeager kid with a baseball bat roughed me up."

"You're just upset because you lost," Natasha snorted.

"Man, I should've _known_ I couldn't outdrink a Norse god."

"Or me," Natasha threw out.

"I drank you under the table," Clint huffed.

"Now, who slept under the table, exactly?" Natasha fixed him with a deadly glare, and Clint relented, seeming to remember.

"…right. I just still can't believe I actually got Banner to join."

"Which was unbelievably stupid of you," Coulson deposited a plate of eggs on the table, which both Natasha and Clint managed to sit up for, "As was the drinking contest altogether, but seeing as the Other Guy didn't make an appearance, Agent Romanov didn't shoot anyone, and all the guests made through the night without gaining emotional trauma or blackmail material, I suppose last night was as successful as it could have been."

"Volume, man, Jesus," Clint hissed, clearly pained just by Coulson's normal speaking level.

"Actually," Coulson continued on, ignoring Clint's complaining altogether, "I do have one concern. Stark was absent most of the night, do any of you know where he went?"

"He banged some blonde chick," Clint paused in devouring his helping of eggs long enough to shoot Coulson an aggravated glare, "Can you stop shouting now?"

"Besides, isn't Stark's absence a good thing?" Natasha commented dryly.

"Usually," Coulson nodded with a hint of a smirk, then continued, "I thought he ran off with a woman too, but she spent the night complaining that he'd kissed her once and run off, which doesn't sound much like him. I looked, but I didn't see him for the rest of the night, either. And if Stark's not drinking, schmoozing, or sleeping around at these things, I get concerned he's off building a death ray in the basement or something."

Steve blushed to the tips of his ears, but thankfully Coulson wasn't looking his direction and everyone else was far too hungover to notice. He reigned it in before speaking up.

"He was with me," Steve paused, then, joking, "I'm almost positive there were no death rays involved."

"Good to hear. Where were you two? I looked in Tony's workshop and both your rooms," Coulson raised an eyebrow, clearly curious.

Steve froze, unsure of exactly how much information he should disclose. Sure, he wanted to tell the team he and Tony had started something-flipping finally-but it wasn't right of him to do it without talking to Tony first, without the other man at least being present. Before Coulson could notice his pause, Tony himself walked in.

"Don't you all look like you're having a fucking wonderful morning?" Tony boomed loudly, entering the kitchen with a mug of coffee already in hand.

"Fuck you, Stark, fuck you, and fuck your disgustingly loud voice, too," Clint shot back, sinking lower into his chair in an effort to become entirely boneless.

"Aw, morning to you too, Legolas," Tony snickered as he moved past Steve to grab a plate and help himself to waffles.

Steve found himself following after Tony, taking a plate as well and sitting between him and Clint. Silence fell over the table, born mostly from half the people in the room being hungover. Tony nursed his coffee while Steve worked through a plate of eggs, his hand inching ever closer to Tony's.

_C'mon, Rogers. What's that thing Clint always says? Man up. Right. Man up. It shouldn't be that hard, anyway. He practically molested me last night, and it's not exactly like I just sat there and took it. I had my tongue in his mouth, there is absolutely no reason I can't hold his hand. It has to come out sometime, anyway. It's not like there's any such thing as a secret in this house._

His fingers brushed against Tony's, and Tony's hand darted out like he'd been electrocuted, attempting to pick up his coffee and knocking it over on Steve instead. He shot up out of his chair, quickly righting the cup and grabbing napkins and hustling around the kitchen, talking a mile a minute.

"Shit, fuck, damn it-!"

"Tony, it's just coffee, I'm okay-"

"No, it's not 'just coffee'," Tony snapped in response shoving napkins into Steve's hands to dry himself off, "I was fucking drinking that, and I fucking _like _coffee, okay? And now I have to get another god damn cup, and it's all over your shirt, and I-oh _wow."_

Tony stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn't been actually wiping up any of the coffee on Steve-he seemed to be avoiding anything resembling touching, all but throwing the napkins at him-but he'd been looking when Steve had wiped the coffee off, brushing back his jacket.

Revealing the utterly impossible-to-ignore bruising on his neck.

The other gaped at him, and Steve turned a very, _very _bright shade of red.

"I thought you said you were with Tony?" Coulson raised an eyebrow dryly. Steve stuttered, about to answer, but Tony stepped in with blinding speed.

"Nope we hung out a while then Steve went off with a woman somewhere I'm pretty sure that's what happened because wow that's a lot of hickeys there Steve yeah lots and lots and _wow _that's a wicked shade of purple but yeah pretty sure there was a chick somewhere and yep high five Steve, okay, so, yum, food, that was great, I have things to blow up downstairs, I think-"

Steve was staring. He knew that, rationally, and yet he couldn't stop. Because really, what was going _on _here? What had he done in a past life to deserve this? No. No, this was not okay. This was not even remotely okay. He was not going to let Tony try and hit the rewind button-again, his mind helpfully reminded him-when last night had made it perfectly clear that Tony most certainly returned Steve's feelings. Steve had spent weeks pining after his unattainably straight best friend, then blissfully made out with said best friend; at the very, _very _least, they were going to have a damn long talk about this.

He came back down to earth as Coulson was finishing grilling Tony, seemingly satisfied that Tony hadn't been trying to create a death ray. Really, what was Coulson's big worry about a death ray? What, he was going to turn evil and take over the world? That was far too cliché for Tony's liking, and he already had enough money to buy most of it anyway. Besides, Tony wouldn't know what to do with the world if he had it.

Why was he thinking about this right now?

"Tony, a moment?" Steve took Tony by the arm, and Tony pulled away like Steve was on fire.

"No thanks Capsicle, I've got things to talk to and people to destroy. Whoops, did I say that out loud? Things destroy, people talk to, you know the drill,I'm not evil, Agent, promise. Yet."

And with that, Tony was taking off out of the room, a whirlwind of nonsensical chatter and wild hand gestures as always.

Steve almost followed him, but Coulson stopped him.

"I hate to do this to you, Captain, I really do, but we need to have a talk."

"Sorry?"

"Um," Coulson gave an awkward cough, and if the Agent wasn't so in control of himself, he might have blushed, "If you've become sexually active I'm afraid as your handler we're going to have to have a quick talk about certain things."

"Christ, that's an awful talk," Clint snorted loudly, clearly remembering his own.

"Excuse me?"

This day really could not get worse.

"It's my duty as your handler to remind you that as an active member of a highly dangerous SHIELD division, having offspring is not currently in your best interests-"

"I-I'm not having-not _reproducing!_" Steve stuttered out a protest, his face turning absolutely fire truck red.

"Be that as it may, I'm afraid I need to ask if you're aware of how to properly protect yourself should the need…arise," Coulson looking impossibly uncomfortable, but Clint was busting a gut. Coulson silenced him with a deadly glare, "Agent Barton, I suggest you stop laughing before I inform them of how _you _handled our little conversation."

Clint paled, and fell silent.

* * *

An hour later, Steve wanted to die.

Too much information. Admittedly, he hadn't known a lot of it-things had certainly changed in the 70 years he'd been gone, not that he'd _ever _really known much about birth control-but he hadn't _needed _it. 95% of the information had pertained to birth control and therefore women, something Steve wasn't exactly planning on dealing with. So he'd sat there, red-faced and wide-eyed, thinking the entire time about Tony.

What on earth was going through that man's head?

He'd thrown Steve under the bus-though perhaps he hadn't meant to sick Coulson and The Talk on him-and run off, clearly unwilling to talk about last night. Steve briefly wondered if Tony had just been so drunk he'd made a mistake…but Steve dismissed the thought. No. There was no way. He _knew _Tony knew what he'd been doing. He'd been too lucid, too deliberate. Not to mention Steve would have tasted it when they, y'know, _made out for hours._

That still made his lips tingle…not to mention certain other parts of his body.

By the time Coulson _finally _finished his speech, it was thankfully time for their Saturday Morning Meeting. It was supposedly a very official Avengers meeting, but really…well, if they were being honest with themselves, it was just a family meeting. They divided up weekly chores, discussed the battles of the past week, made plans for dinner or events the upcoming week.

The Avengers assembled in the rec room, sitting in a circle to go through the agenda Coulson had. Tony slunk in at the last moment, sitting at just the right angle so that he wasn't next to Steve, but he wasn't right across from him, either. Steve had to lean across Bruce to see him, so Steve gave in. Fine. Tony could act like a child for now all he wanted, but they _were _having that talk sooner or later.

They made their way down the list, and it came down to chores. As always, Tony pitched in-by complaining.

"Seriously, are you all awareof how fucking _rich _I am?" Tony whined.

"We need to take responsibility for ourselves, Tony," Steve sighed in reply.

"You know, Stark, that thing keeping you from being a real boy?" Clint threw out a lazy challenge, a smirk on his face.

"Screw you, Barton," Tony shot back, but it lacked his usual bite.

"What? No death threats?"

"Go to hell," Tony grumbled, and Steve could see his eyes darkening. Tony had spent too long brewing off on his own, and Steve could see the signs; his eyes were darkening, and he wasn't bantering back with Clint like he always did.

"Aw, is Iron Ass having a bad day?" Clint teased, "You seemed all too chipper this morning."

"Just leave him alone, Clint," Steve warned.

"I think I can handle myself, _Captain_," Tony growled and Steve paused, thrown off momentarily by the amount of ice in Tony's voice, "Why don't you and me go outside Barton, and I'll show you exactly what kind of a day I'm having."

"Both of you need to take it down a notch," Bruce laid a hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Whatever," Tony shrugged him off, resuming his half-lying down position, back against the couch. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, something Steve couldn't help but think was adorable, "I still don't want to clean the kitchen."

"Come on, Tony, we're all pitching in," Steve tried to persuade him, "You're a part of the team too."

"I don't _do _cleaning, Steve," Tony raised an eyebrow pointedly.

"Sweetheart, will you please just-"

And he was about to say _pitch in for once?, _but the words died in his throat at the look Tony gave him, and it occurred to him what exactly he had just said.

There was a very long, very awkward silence.

"_What _did you just call him?"

Clint was blinking rapidly, from Tony to Steve and back again. The others looked just as confused, and Steve would normally be embarrassed, but right now all he could feel was the absolutely _horrified_ look Tony was giving him.

Steve could have said a million things right then. He could have given an embarrassed laugh, said "It's a forties thing, sorry, force of habit, didn't mean to be weird" and they wouldn't know the difference. It wasn't as if any of them were there. He could have stood up right then and there, declared with complete confidence, "I'm gay and I'm okay with it and last night I made out with my best friend" and he would have been just fine.

But Steve didn't do anything at all, because he was stopped stone cold by the look of complete and utter betrayal on Tony's face.

And then he was gone, walking out the door with an intense, furious speed. Steve was up and out the door after him immediately, honestly scared, terrified really, because above all things he knew in his heart that he _absolutely could not lose Tony._

"Tony, I'm s-!"

"Not now," his voice was curt, clipped, and he didn't stop walking for a second.

"Can _please _we just talk about this-"

"About what? Nothing to talk about."

"Nothing to-Tony!" Steve's jaw almost dropped, "There's so much to talk about I don't even know where to begin!"

"I know where to begin," Tony whirled around at last, spinning on his heels, "I'm not gay. I am Tony fucking Stark, and I'm about as straight as they come. I don't know why you would call me something like _that, _but it's weird, and we're not like that. Okay?"

He wasn't really asking for Steve's opinion, that much was clear, but Steve gave it anyway.

"Are you _serious_? Tony, we've been on so many almost-dates I can't even _count _them any more! The waitress at half the restaurants downtown know our orders! You stop working on your things to take me to touristy things that I know you hate, I cut my workouts practically in half because I want to talk to you while you invent instead. God, you put your arm around me at the movies!"

"You were shivering!"

"Tony, the serum keeps me warm constantly!"

"You said you were cold!"

"Of course I wasn't cold! And you know that, I _know _you know that, because I _know _you read my file, you practically know more about the serum's effects than I do!"

"..." Tony was silent a moment, clearly trying and failing to come up with a argument. At last, he simply said, "It doesn't change anything, Steve."

_You don't change anything._

"And last night?" Steve's voice was quiet, broken almost, "You really think last night changes nothing?"

"I drank a lot, I don't really remember last night. But if I gave you an impression of something other than friendship, you need to delete it from your brain because _I. Am not. Gay."_

The words were a self-loathing snarl, but they were a lie. Sure, Tony had been a little tipsy-Steve had tasted it on his lips when they, you know, _kissed for hours on end_-but Tony remembered, Tony remembered all too clearly. Steve could see it in his eyes. He just gave Tony a look, and they both knew Steve knew Tony remembered every minute of it.

"Look...I'm sorry I called you sweetheart," Steve began, and Tony practically cringed at the word, "It just slipped out. I didn't mean to put you on the spot, or move too fast, I just-"

"We're not 'moving' anywhere, Captain. I don't know what you think is going on here, but you're my best friend. That's all. Anyway, I'm busy, there's an emergen-"

"Don't insult us both, there is no emergency right now," Steve's voice was firm in spite of his eye roll, then he softened, "Please. Please, Tony, just talk to me."

"Look, fun as this whole feelings bullshit is, can we have this talk later?"

"By which you mean never, right?"

"Works for me."

"And here I thought Tony Stark was the man without fear," Steve's voice was still hurt, but now it was laced with poison; he was suddenly _ticked._

"I am not _afraid _of anything, Rogers-" Tony spat out, just a hint of heat in his words.

"_Yes you are!_" Steve was shouting now, so upset and insistent and _hurt _that he couldn't help but yell, "You're afraid! You're afraid of me, you're afraid of what we have and how it makes you feel because I'm willing to bet you've never felt anything like it before, and _it scares you!_ And God, Tony, I know you! You're not afraid of being gay. You think it's what you're afraid of, and you tell yourself that's all it is, but you're really afraid of the fact that being with me is different! You've been with girls but I _know _you never felt about them like you feel about me, don't you dare tell me that's not true. And now we have what we have, and you're feeling something, and it scares you."

Where Steve was fire, all hurt and anger building up at Tony's resistance, Tony was ice, smooth and frosted over. He was still as stone, his face no longer the open book of twitches and smirks and eye flickers that Steve could interpret so well, but an iron-clad wall of silence. Not just the silence that came from his mouth being shut, but the kind of silence born in the mind, the kind of silence that came when someone gave you absolutely nothing. Even his eyes, usually so emotional and easy to interpret were glassy, reflective.

And Steve couldn't stand it.

He wasn't used to this, to this coldness and turning away and careful power plays. Even as he looked into Tony's emotion-free eyes, he _knew. _He knewTony loved him, knew it in his bones, in a way so deep and primal he couldn't even find the words to explain _how _he knew. He just did. Though he had begun to tiptoe around the thought last night, it was becoming clear now. There was something about the way Tony had kissed him; they hadn't made out like drunken frat boys at a party, mistakenly sloppy and so zealous that the gender or identity of the warm body against their skin didn't matter. Tony had kissed him long and slow, careful and gentle and..._intimate. _Not intimate in the sense that they had gotten frisky under each others clothes, but intimate in the emotional sense, intimate in the connection that ran between them like electricity, zigzagging through their veins.

It had always been between them.

It had been there when Tony had argued with Steve, challenging him to really think about his decisions and accept what had happened to him to become the leader their highly unstable group had needed. It had been there when Steve had challenged Tony in return, forcing him to reflect on himself and how he fit into a team, to the point that Tony had pulled out all the stops to prove he really did have it in him to be a hero. It was there later, when Tony had gone on all those silly, tourist-trap trips and adventures and events, and taught Steve the ins and outs of the modern world, even though he could have easily handed Steve and his confused, endless curiosity off to someone else to deal with. It was there when Steve worked with Tony to get him to eat better and sleep more, develop healthy life habits even though he could have easily given up and let Tony work to the brink of exhaustion, since Tony rarely let it affect the team. But he had helped Tony anyway, just as Tony had always helped him, because they cared about each other. Because they mattered to each other.

They were friends then and they were friends now, but they had also been more for a while now and Steve refused to let Tony give that up.

"Why are you so afraid of feeling something real?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," Tony's voice was completely and utterly devoid of emotion, "I just don't want you."

"Bullshit."

Steve's reply was instantaneous, his voice hard and completely sure of himself. Tony blinked, slipping just a little.

"I don't want you, _Rogers_," Tony snarled his name like a curse word, "Is that so hard to imagine? Are you so full of yourself you can't take a rejection when you hear it?"

Steve didn't even flinch, knew without question that Tony was lying through his teeth.

"Tony…this scares me too, you know. This sort of thing wasn't exactly accepted in my time, but you know something? If I had met you then, I still would have fought you, fought _for _you, every step of the way. Because maybe this is new and real and a little scary, but it feels like that because I have never felt as close to anyone as I feel to you. And yes, Tony, you could hurt me. You could hurt me more than any person alive or dead, and you know what? I could hurt you too. And maybe that's what scares you, but you have to understand that I am never going to hurt you, or leave you, or run away from this even if you try to. God, Tony, you're so busy trying to be who everyone else wants you to be that you can't even see that I love you exactly the way you are!"

Silence fell between them, but it was instantly different. The silence wasn't quiet and cold with a stone wall between them; this time the silence was tense and furious. Tony was looking at him with such deep, unbelievable shock and a great dose of confusion, like he wasn't entirely sure what Steve had just said. So Steve repeated himself, this time with less spur-of-the-moment fire and more self-assured confidence.

"I love you, Tony."

He meant it. He really meant it, and out of all the things they were throwing at each other right now, he didn't want those words to get lost in the heat of the moment. Because maybe he hadn't meant to say it right then, maybe he hadn't even really thought about how to really deal with _that word_ up until the moment it flew out of his mouth…but the moment it left his tongue, he knew. He felt the weight of it, the connotation and the history buried there and it was true, it was all true.

Tony said nothing.

Steve, suddenly fed up, crossed the room and kissed Tony aggressively. Tony instantly tried to yank away, shove Steve off, but for once Steve didn't let him go. He just kept kissing him until all of Tony's anger and frustration and confusion slipped away, and the smaller man melted into him. Tony kissed him back then, softly; not hesitant, just tender, and Steve released his death grip on Tony's face. The kiss continued another moment, lingering, until Tony pulled away.

He paused, reflecting on something. He was looking through Steve, past his eyes and into his soul for just a moment, and Steve could see the war Tony was waging with himself. Steve wanted desperately to reach out, to help Tony somehow, but he knew he'd done enough. This was a battle Tony had to win on his own.

Tony exhaled slowly, then kissed Steve again, whispering something almost unintelligible into them.

_I love you too._


	16. Chapter 16

**Epilogue**

"So, it turns out I'm kind of gay."

Tony felt like he was being dissected, his every thought and feeling thrown out on display, labeled and identified for all the world to see as he stood in front of his gaping teammates. _Gay. _Jesus. He didn't even know what to think about that. Theoretically he'd never had a problem with it, but Tony had never really bothered much with other people's lives to begin with, so what did he care about anyone else's sexuality? It was his that seemed to be giving him trouble lately.

So maybe kissing Steve had blown every other kiss of his life out of the water. So maybe even just being in Steve's general vicinity made him feel like he wanted do other things that currently made him extremely uncomfortable. Maybe that was the point. That all those other kisses hadn't meant anything, because he was _supposed _to feel things out of his comfort zone. That was life, wasn't it? Besides, he was Tony fucking Stark, according to most people he didn't even _have _a comfort zone.

"Yeah. For, uh, Steve."

Silence.

"What? Christ, don't _look _at me like that Coulson! I mean, it was news to me too, but he's kind of like…I don't know, apple pie, or fucking baseball or something. It's sort of unpatriotic _not _to like him if you really think about it."

"I can see the headlines now; Tony Stark, Gay Because It's Patriotic," Bruce was the first to speak, chuckling wryly as he imagined it.

"Oh God," Coulson groaned, putting his face in his hands.

"Okay, seriously Agent, I just had a coming-to-terms-with-myself moment here, and you're kind of being offensive."

"Do you assholes ever think about anyone but yourselves? I swear, it's like I'm living with children!" Coulson ranted, "Jesus, Steve, if you knew you were gay, you should have maybe _stopped me from telling you about birth control at some point!" _

"Sorry," Steve examined his shoes carefully.

"And I don't even want to _think _about how the hell we're going to explain this to the press!" Coulson threw his hands up, "I mean, seriously, does no one remember the absolute legal _war _we declared on them to get all the prints about you two having some illicit love affair retracted less than a month ago?"

"To be fair, we totally weren't at the time," Tony pointed out.

"They made a very big deal out of some donuts and a few speeches," Steve nodded hastily in agreement.

"You two," Coulson declared as he rose to his feet, "Are going to kill me someday. I just _know _it."

"If it helps, Agent-" Steve began, but Coulson waved him off.

"I don't want to hear it. Congratulations, I'm happy for you, whatever. You," Coulson pointed at Tony, "This is your fault, and _you _are the one that will be dealing with this media hurricane."

"Is that really a good idea?" Bruce added hesitantly.

"If you make Stark do it, he'll just screw Steve on the front lawn or something and call it his statement," Barton pointed out.

"Clint!" Steve protested, "We would _not!"_

"Aw," Tony pouted, "Boo, you whore."

Steve blinked once. Then twice. Then his face started to get red, and not in the embarrassed way Tony found adorable, but more in the Tony-should-go-hide-now-before-Steve-killed-him way.

"_What _did you just call me?"

Tony threw his arms around Steve's neck, kissing him soundly before blurting out "It'sfromamovieI'msorrylovemeplease?"

"I think I liked you better in the closet," Natasha grumbled.

"We're not going to be _that_ different," Steve shifted, suddenly uncomfortable under everyone's scrutiny, but that didn't stop him from placing his hands on Tony's waist.

"Yeah," Tony shrugged, not removing his arms from around Steve's neck, "We were already together constantly. There's just gonna be a lot of this now."

It was at that point that Tony pulled Steve into another, this time rather demanding, kiss.

"This. This is why I hate mornings," Clint grouched.

"Aw, did someone get up on the wrong side of the nest?" Tony broke the kiss long enough to shoot a smirk Clint's way.

"I hate you both," Clint just declared, "And if you have sex _anywhere _other than your rooms, I _will_ find out, and I _will_ kill you."

"Creatively," Natasha added in agreement.

"And the press will hear that you two were possessed by evil alien demons and your deaths were an unfortunate necessity," Coulson nodded, writing notes in his agenda, "Tony, call a press conference first thing on Monday. Steve, keep Tony under control during the conference. Natasha, I want a knife at Tony's back and Clint, I want eyes in the sky. If Tony tries to rape Steve on camera, aim for his knees."

"Well, that seems excessive," Steve blinked.

"Yeah. I mean, it's not rape if he consents," Tony pointed out.

"Not helping, Tony."

* * *

"So, I have notecards this time," Tony announced to the waiting crowd of reporters, waving them in the air.

"Thank god," one reporter mumbled to his cameraman.

"Will this be about StarkIndustries or the Avengers Initiative?" another asked, pressing forward with a microphone in hand.

"It's a mix of business and pleasure, if you will," Tony smirked, and Steve elbowed him. Tony just wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders with a grin, "So, you remember the little difference of opinion we had about the particular relationship between me and good ol' Steve here?"

"_Notecards, Stark," _Natasha hissed in his ear with a plastic smile to the cameras, her hand on his shoulder like a vice.

Steve stood to his right, and Natasha to his left. Though Natasha didn't have a knife out and ready at his back, Tony was sure she could draw one in a flash if necessary, and Barton, true to his word, was in the rafters. Then, it took more than that to stop Tony.

"Eh," Tony flipped through his notecards, "That's a lot of words. And after last night, man, I gotta tell you, I'm _exhausted-_"

"Tony…" Steve warned.

"Hey, it's your fault! Super serum, whoo boy," Tony smirked and jerked a thumb in Stvee's direction, "This guy can go for _hou-_"

"_Tony!" _Steve blurted, bright red, quickly covering Tony's mouth with his hand.

"Ow!" Tony mumbled through Steve's hand, squirming at Natasha's not-so-gentle prodding at his back.

"So, I know Tony said we weren't before and at the time we really were just friends but now we're not, we're, well, Tony and I are dating, that's the announcement, thank you all for coming!" Steve grabbed Tony and hauled him out then, as Tony winked and blew kisses to the rowdy reporters and flashing cameras they left behind.

Natasha was going to kill him for leaving her to answer questions, Coulson was going to kill him for not making Tony do the press conference correctly for once, and Clint was just going to be upset Steve hauled Tony out before he could find a reason to shoot Tony in the knees. Oh well. Better than Tony blurting out their sex life on camera.

"Have I mentioned that I love you lately?" Tony chirped with a guilty grin as they ducked back inside.

"You might of. I love you too…even if you are incorrigible," Steve just kissed him on the cheek with a fond smile.


End file.
